1 


* 


SOUL  WAIFS 

Poems 


BY 

BELLE  VAN  DERVEER 


p. 


BUFFALO 

THE  PETER  PAUL  BOOK  CO 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  1895 
BY  BELLE  VAN  DERVEER. 


PRINTED  AND   BOUND   BY 

THE  PETER   PAUL   BOOK   COMPANY, 

BUFFALO,   N.  Y. 


To 
TOjt  gEcir  Friends 

.  and  TOrs.    k.  HI.  TOnrrts 


/  lovingly  inscribe  this  little  volume  to  you,  Mrs. 
Morris,  as  a  slight  token  of  esteem.  You  have  ever 
been  to  me  a  bright  exemplar  of  all  that  is  good, 
true,  and  worthy  in  womanhood.  Your  smile,  your 
kindly  sympathy,  your  sweet  and  unobtrusive  phil 
anthropy  have  lightened  the  burdens  of  many,  and 
your  mission  has  ever  been  to  garner  souls  into  the 
mighty  granary  of  the  Lord.  Heaven  bless  you! 
I  gladly  link  your  name  in  this  dedication,  Mr. 
Morris,  for  you  have  ever  been  a  kind,  appreciative 
friend  whom  to  know  is  to  esteem  and  admire  for 
many  rare  qualities  of  heart  and  mina. 

That  the  Lord  may  give  you  both  his  choicest 

blessings  and  length  of  days,  and  that  our  friend 

ship  may  last  till  the  end  of  life's  journey,  is  the 

heartfelt  wish  of  one  who  can  never  forget  you. 

BELLE  VAN  DERVEER. 


PREFACE 

The  poems  in  this  volume  were  penned,  from 
time  to  time,  in  the  few  leisure  moments  of  a  busy 
life.  Many  of  them  came  from  the  heart  in  sad 
hours  of  grief  and  gloom,  which  followed  the 
death  of  an  only  son,  a  lad  who  was  endeared  to 
all  who  knew  him,  by  his  many  lovable  qualities 
and  noble  traits  of  mind  which  bespoke  a  promis 
ing  future.  If  any  of  the  lines  find  a  place  in  the 
heart  of  the  reader,  the  author  will  feel  that 
SOUL  WAIFS  have  not  been  penned  in  vain, 
but  will  be  a  bond  of  sympathy  between  them 
henceforth. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

THISTLE  DOWN 13 

A  HEART'S  HISTOKY 14 

QUEENA 25 

INSPIRATION 33 

LIGHT  OF  MY  LTK 35 

HEART   LONGINGS 36 

A  WEDDING  RHYME 38 

PHCEBE 39 

UNFORGOTTKN     41 

"On!  FOR  THE  Torcn  OF  A  VANISHED  HAND!"  43 

Two  IN  ONE 45 

I  LONG  FOR  THOSE  BRIGHT  EVES 46 

NOT  ALONE 47 

AUTUMN      48 

FOREVERMORE     49 

WHERE'ER  I  Go     50 

ONLY  A  WORD 51 

THE  LILIES 52 

LITTLE  WHITE  GRAVE     .    .    . 53 

THOUGHTS  ON  THE   BIBLE 55 

GRANDPA'S  VISION 59 

TIME 62 

To  MOTHER 63 

FIVE  LITTLE  LEAVES 64 

MY  DEAREST  HEART 65 

THANKSGIVING 66 

THROUGH  DARK,  TO  LIGHT 67 

SEPARATION 68 

MISJUDGED 70 

SUFFER  LITTLE  CHILDREN 71 


viii  Contents. 

PAGE 

SUNLIGHT  FOR  WORKINGMEN 72 

SPRINGTIME  VOICES 74 

AT  THE  FAIR     75 

AUTUMN  DAYS 78 

MUSING  UPON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  BELOVED  SON  .  80 

JESUS  ONLY 82 

AFTER  DARK 83 

WHERE  THE  WEARY  ARE  AT  REST 85 

THE  FARMER'S  CHRISTMAS  GIFT 86 

To  THE  SUN 89 

PARTED     90 

DECORATION  DAY 91 

"REMEMBER  ME" 93 

A  CITY  INCIDENT 94 

A  Kiss  IN  DREAMS '    ' 96 

CHRISTMAS 97 

CAROL,  CHILDREN,  CAROL  ! 99 

GOLDEN  LINKS 100 

MIDWINTER  WOODS 101 

DOWN  WHERE  THE  MOHAWK  GLIDETH     ....  102 

DREAMS    .    .' 104 

"SHE  is  MY  QUEEN  ALONE!" 107 

A  RAINY  DAY 108 

Music 109 

To  A  RAINBOW no 

LOVELY  JUNE     in 

JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 112 

SUMMER-TIME 115 

THE  MISSION  OF  FLOWERS 116 

OUR  GRANGE     117 

A  SUMMER'S  DAY 118 

ALL  HAIL  OUR  QUEEN 119 

FLORA  DAY 120 

A  BIRD'S  SONG     121 

ABSENCE  .                                               122 


Contents  ix 

PAGE 

OLD  AGE     123 

So  TIRED 125 

A  SPRING  FANCY     127 

THE  BALM  OF  KINDNESS 128 

FRIENDSHIP        130 

SNOWDROPS 132 

EASTER     133 

REST 135 

A  MOTHER'S  Loss 136 

EASTER-TIME 137 

THE  WONDERFUL  WHISPER 138 

OH,  ICY  HEART  OF  WINTER  ! 140 

To  A  FIRE-FLY 141 

AUTUMN  RAIN 142 

AT  TWILIGHT 143 

THE  ^ESTHETIC  CROWS     144 

IN  MEMORIAM     .    .    .  - 146 

LOVE 147 

"MEMORIAL  DAY" 149 

"FOLLOW  ME"      150 

SPIRIT  VOICES 152 

THE  ONE  THAT  I  ADORE 154 

BEREAVEMENT 155 

MARCH 157 

A  HEN'S  COLUMBIAN  LAY 158 

REMEMBERED      159 

SUGGESTED  BY  THE  PLAY  OF  "INGOMAR"    .    .    .  160 

THE  SILENT  BOATMAN 161 

DAWN 163 

SNOW     164 

DON'T  You  HEAR  THE  ROBIN  ? 165 

GRANDMA'S  GLASSES 167 

THEY  ARE  NOT  DEAD 168 

A  WORLD'S-FAIR  MEMORY 170 

THE  TOUCH  OF  GOD 172 


x  Contents. 

PAGE 

LOVE'S  DREAM  OF  THE  FUTURE 173 

IN  MEMORY 178 

PRAYER 180 

SABBATH  EVE 181 

BE  PURE  IN  SPEECH 183 

SHADOWS 185 

SUNSET 186 

WHY  Do  I  LOVE? 188 

DISAPPOINTMENT 190 

PASSION  VERSUS  LOVE 191 

SNOW 193 

THE  DAYS 194 

MEMORIAL  DAY 195 

THE  REASON  WHY 196 

THINE  EYES 197 

APART  FROM  THEE 198 

A  DREAM 200 

SEPARATION 201 

WOMAN'S  CLUBS 203 

CLOSE  TO  THE  CROSS 205 

THE  NEW  WOMAN  .  206 


THISTLE  DOWN. 

FAIRY  barques  that  drift 
Idly  here  and  there  ; 
Misty  sails  that  catch 

The  currents  of  the  air  ; 
Yet,  with  rich  seed  laden 

That  shall,  haply,  grow, — 
Where,  upon  the  earth, 

Ah!  who  may  guess  or  know  ? 

Airy  songs  that  float 

Carelessly  away, 
Borne  from  out  the  heart, 

Or  sorrowful  or  gay  ; 
But,  the  hopes  they  carry, 

In  some  life  may  bloom, 
Lessening  its  pain, 

And  lightening  its  gloom  ! 


A  HEART'S  HISTORY. 

ONLY  the  simple  history  of  a  heart, — 'tis  all, — 
The  record  of  the  years  that  now   are  past 

and  dead, 

Yet  from  whose  deeps  the  phantoms  evermore  arise 
To  meet  her  on  life's  journey  with  untold  regrets  I 
They  never  die  —  those  memories  of  the  golden 

past, 

She  cannot  hush  the  memories  of  the  far  away, 
Which  like  the  billows  of  the  troubled  sea, 
Heard  far  inland,  still  voice  their  sad,  eternal  woe  ! 
For  those  who  love  her,  let  these  lines  be  penned, 

that  when 

Her  heart  is  still,  and  chill  this  pulse's  eager  throb, 
They  may  with  pity  scan  this  leaflet  from  the  past, 
And  think  of  one  whose  life  was  but  a  pleasing 

mask, 
Full  oft,  to  hide  the  fadeless  dreams  that  might  have 

been  ! 

Like  roses  in  a  garden,  sweetly  fading,  one  by  one, 

The  happy  years  of  childhood  withered  in  the 
golden  sun  ! 

Then  girlhood  dawned  with  all  its  charm  and  in 
finite  delight, — 

Its  vistas  garlanded  with  buds  and  blossoms  ever 
bright ! 


A  Heart 's  History.  15 

Oh!  could  she  picture  half  the  joy  that  blest  her 
pathway  then, — 

The  fairy  dreams, — the  castles  reared, — transcend 
ing  tongue  or  pen  ! 

And  lo  !  there  came  a  deeper  bliss,  like  an  angel 
from  above, 

It  winged  into  its  nest, — her  heart,  and  breathed 
the  name  of  Love  ! 

Then  moved  she  in  a  realm  of  sweet  enchantment 
all  the  while  ; 

She  lived,  she  breathed,  but  in  the  halo  of  his  rapt 
uring  smile  ! 

He  bore  to  her  the  semblance  of  a  being  half  di 
vine, — 

He  was  the  idol  of  her  soul, — she  worshipped  at 
his  shrine  ! 

Oh,  joy  !  with  sweet  responsive  glance  he  looked 
into  her  eyes  ! 

The  thought  that  he  was  wholly  her's,  to  her  was 
Paradise  ! 

The  vision  of  those  blissful  days, — how  soon  it  dis 
appeared  ! 

How  soon  was  torn  and  scattered  all  the  future  love 
had  reared  ! 

There  came  the  sad,  the  parting  hour  that  rested 

like  a  pall, — 
That  hour  that  soon  or  late  must  come  to  crush  the 

hearts  of  all  ! 


1 6  A  Heart' s  History. 

She  felt  that  she  was  dear  to  him,  and,  when  his 

letters  came, 
She  thought ;  nay  knew,  that  in  his  heart  he  was  to 

her  the  same. 

Years  passed  away. 

Upon  her  heart  slept  one  from  God, — 
A  tiny  gift  that  brought  a  bliss  beyond  all  speech  ! 
A  consolation  that  this  earth  could  not  bestow. 
And  oft  as  she  would  gaze  into  those  baby  eyes 
Would  she  resolve  to  live  the  life  allotted  her, 
And  let  the  Past  with  all  its  dreams  lie  in  the  grave  ! 
So  taking  up  the  burdens  of  the  hour,  the  seasons 

sped  ; 
She  lived   but   in  the  joyous  smiles  of  her  sweet 

boy  ! 

She  watched  him  grow  with  all  the  hope  a  mother 

knows ; 
He  was  her  thought  by  day,  her  dream  throughout 

the  night  ! 
He  was  her  rose,   her  gem,  her  pride,  her  lovely 

bird  ! 

Alas  !    how  soon  from  out  her  arms  he  flew  away 
And  left  her  stunned  and  speechless  in  her  deathless 

woe  ! 

The  seasons  wore  an  alien  look  since  he  had  flown, 
For  all  that  he  had  looked  on,  brighter  seemed  ; 
The  sun  was  shut  from  out  the  passing  day  ; 


A  HearC  s  History.  17 

The  stars  at  night  were  but  her  darling's  watchful 
eyes 

That  looked  upon  her  from  his  bright  and  angel 
home  ! 

Then  'mid  the  whirlwind  of  her  grief  and  lone  de 
spair 

There  came  a  missive  from  the  dead,  so  seemed  it 
then, — 

From  him  whose  love  had  gladdened  her  in  years 
agone ! 

It  whispered  hope,  it  breathed  of  peace  and  calmed 
the  strife  ! 

Once  only  had  they  met,  and  once  his  heart  had 

striven 

To  tell  its  story  to  her  own  in  burning  lines. 
Unwedded  yet,  and  but  a  memory  unto  her, 
That  holy  love,  — then  let  her  here  the  record  keep. 


0  WOULD  that  heartfelt  throbs  could  talk 
In  numbers  tried  and  true, 

For  language  can  but  feebly  mock 
My  zealous  love  for  you  ! 

1  oft  bemoan  that  cruel  fate 

That  robbed  my  jewel  dear, 
And  left  my  heart  most  desolate 
With  each  returning  year. 


1 8  A  Heart's  History. 

Now  oft  through  memory's  horoscope 

I  view  those  scenes  of  yore, 
When  Love's  young  dream  so  full  of  hope 

Comes  back  to  me  once  more. 

The  hours  sped  by  on  golden  wings, 

No  thought  of  care  had  I  ; 
Thus  peace  of  mind  contentment  brings 

When  those  we  love  are  nigh. 

But  clouds  appeared,  the  skies  o'ercast, 

In  days  of  long  ago, 
As  when  in  spring  a  chilling  blast 

Makes  white,  fair  fields,  with  snow. 

When  truth's  strong  winds  those  clouds  dispersed 

Love's  sun  still  brighter  shone  ; 
But  that  fell  storm  had  done  its  worst, — 

My  fairy  bird  had  flown. 

Though  many  summer  suns  since  then 

Have  wakened  into  bloom 
Erotic  life  in  wood  and  glen 

And  songs  dispelled  the  gloom  ; 

Though  plumaged  birds,  inspired  to  sing, 

Melodious  make  the  air, 
And  love,  with  each  returning  spring, 

Makes  happy  many  a  pair, 


A  Heart 's  History.  19 

Yet  not  for  me  can  Nature  charm, 

Or  melody  thrill  again, 
Since  you  have  left  whose  skill  could  calm 

With  music's  grandest  strain. 

At  length,  in  Friendship's  grasp  once  more 
We  meet,  though  pressed  with  care  ; 

You've  trouble  seen  since  days  of  yore, 
My  skies  not  always  fair. 

No  more  returns  the  dreamland  Past, 

Yet  haunting  memory  still 
Doth  measure  well  the  shadows  cast 

On  valley,  plain  and  hill. 

That  joyous  time  when  hope  was  high, — 

Oh !  we  were  happy  then ! 
When  Love's  bright  dream  illumed  the  sky, — 

The  shady  wood  and  glen. 

Oh,  could  Love's  dream  again  return 

With  life  so  fair  and  gay  ! 
False  friends  no  more  would  dare  to  spurn, 

For  Love  would  rule  the  day  ! 

Maturer  life  now  comes  to  view  ; 

The  duty  it  involves 
Shall  be  my  care  to  honor  you 

With  manhood's  high  resolves. 


20  A  Heart's  History. 

If  friends  prove  false,  who  favors  court, 
One  heart  shall  still  prove  true, 

And  e'er  through  good  or  ill  report, 
Will  love  and  cherish  you. 

As  days  go  by  this  thought  will  cheer 

And  life  will  happier  be, 
To  know,  when  far  away  or  near, 

You'll  sometimes  think  of  me. 

Live,  sweet,  sweet  words  in  memory  evermore 
Live  in  her  heart  till  Life's  short  span  is  o'er  ! 
Though  wrong  has  blasted  with  its  crafty  hand, 
And  grief  is  hers, — Oh,  let  this  record  stand 
A  blissful  waif  upon  Life's  wreck-strewn  strand 

And  thus  her  heart  makes  evermore  response 

To  his,  and  here  the  record  now  is  set, 

That  it  may  haply  find  him  some  bright  day 

When  she  has  gone  from  earth  and  all  its  care,- 

When  she  is  but  the  shadow  of  a  dream, — 

E'en  as  the  dream  that  perished  long  ago  ! 

Magic  spark  !  electric  flame  ! 

Tell,  oh,  tell  us  thy  dear  name. 

Dost  thou  know  thy  healing  powers? — 

How  thou  cheerest  lonely  hours  ? 

Wast  thou  born  in  heaven  above  ? 

Then  methinks  thy  name  is  Love  ! 

Seventeen, — too  young,  you  think, 

To  enjoy  Love's  holy  link  ! 


A  Heart' s  History.  21 


Or  too  weak  in  intellect, 
Too,  too  fickle  to  select. 
Heart,  oh,  tell  them  'tis  untrue, 
Love  can  youngest  hearts  imbue  ! 
Disappointments  desolate 
Brought  to  her  the  hand  of  Fate  ! 
'Twas  her  lot  to  be  thus  crushed  ! 
Pangs  within  her  heart  were  hushed, — 
Told  to  no  one  save  her  God  ! 
Was  her  grief  a  chastening  rod  ? 

Parted  they  with  sweetest  kiss, — 
Good-byes  spoken,  rapturous  bliss  ! 
Little  thought  'twas  time  the  last, — 
And  her  happiness  had  past  ! 
Years  were  hers  of  grief  and  joy, — 
Had  she  not  an  angel  boy? 
Sent  from  heaven  to  cheer  Life's  way 
Through  the  dark  and  dismal  day. 
How  she  loved  him  none  can  tell, 
As  his  ringing  laughter  fell 
Full  of  music  on  her  ear, 
All  the  lonely  hours  to  cheer. 

Dearer  now  than  aught  of  earth  ! 
But  she  never  knew  his  worth, 
Till  his  spirit  fled  away 
Unto  realms  of  perfect  day  ! 

She,  alone,  again  was  left 
Heart-sick  and  forlorn,  bereft! 


22  A  Hearf  s  History. 

And  she  thought  of  long  ago, 
Wondering  what  friend  would  bestow 
Solace  in  Life's  trying  hour, — 
Who  among  them  had  the  power, 
As  the  saddened  days  dragged  by, — 
Each  hour  praying  God  to  die  ! — 
Suddenly  a  thought  occurred 
And  her  heart  to  action  stirred. 
Caught  she  then  a  gleam  of  light 
Through  the  gloominess  of  night, 
Where  was  now  the  friend  of  yore 
Whom  she  loved  long  years  before  ? 
Would  he  now  to  her  respond, 
And  renew  their  Friendship's  bond? 
Yes,  an  answer  came  ere  long, — 
Tribute  of  compassion  strong, 
Sympathizing  with  her  grief, 
Bringing  to  her  soul  relief. 

Since  she'd  lost  all  faith  in  men, — 
"  After  Death,"  she  asked  "  what  then  ? 
No  hope  beyond,  tell  me  your  faith 
Oh  teacher,  friend,  list  what  he  saith  : 
' '  You  will  find  him  by  and  by 
Linked  by  heaven's  eternal  tie  ! 
Where  all  partings  are  unknown, 
Where  no  heart  shall  say  '  Alone  ! ' 
Be  assured  your  pure,  bright  boy 
Idol  of  your  heart,  and  joy, 


A  Heart' s  History.  23 


Has  escaped  life's  sins  and  strife, 
Now  translated  to  that  life 
Where  he'll  welcome  parents  dear, 
Nevermore  to  shed  a  tear." 

Blessed  words,  they  deeply  sank 
As  with  yearning  soul  she  drank  ; 
Consolation  thus  expressed 
Soothed  all  her  aching  breast  ! 

Fourteen  years  of  hope  deferred, — 
Fourteen  years  since  she  had  heard 
From  that  friend  of  long  ago, — 
Now  she  questioned  why  'twas  so, 
Soon  an  answer  came  again, 
Eased  once  more  her  silent  pain. 

What  rich  treasures  Memory  holds, — 
Of  what  "  might  have  been  "  enfolds  ! 
For  the  clasp  and  thrill  of  Love 
Now  unto  her  Life  are  wove  ! 
And  no  more  she  feels  alone 
While  he  lives  whose  manly  tone 
Can  inspire  her  to  awake 
And,  anew,  great  courage  take  ! 
Looking  forward,  she'l!  press  on 
Hoping  for  some  brighter  dawn, 
Separated  though  they  are, 
Hope's  bright  orb  still  gleams  afar, 


24  A  Heart's  History. 

And,  though  they  should  never  meet 
Winter's  cold  nor  summer's  heat, 
Now  can  make  her  heart  forget, 
While  the  stars  are  heavenward  set  ! 

Prayers  now  nightly  shall  ascend 
For  his  welfare,  trusted  friend  ! 
Guardian  angels,  watch  thou  near, 
Look  thou  down  with  pitying  ear  ! 
Hearken,  Father,  throned  above, 
Hear  her  prayer,   Thy  name  is  Love  ! 

Only  the  simple  history  of  a  heart,  'tis  all, 
Out  of  the  Past,  fond  memories  to  recall  ! 


A 


OUEENA. 
i. 

FAIR  young  girl  is  bending  o'er  the  picture  of 

a  youth, 
She   gazes  at  it  with  delight,    with  lovelit  eyes  of 

truth  ; 
She  speaks  to  it  with   tenderness,  with  innocence 

and  joy, 
Alas  !    that    one  sad    word    of  pain    hope's  future 

should  destroy. 

II. 

So  earnestly  she  gazes  on  that  face,  she  does  not 

see 
The   living   face  that   watches  from   the  doorway 

eagerly, 

A  face  that  bears  in  lividness  the  message  of  a  doom, 
That  comes  to  cloud  life's  sunshine  with  its  bitter, 

bitter  gloom. 

III. 

She  meets  his  glance,   and  shyly,   with   a   pretty 

charming  grace, 
She  strives  to  hide  the  picture,   can  her  throbbing 

heart  not  trace 

25 


26  Queena. 

Within  those  pallid  features  as  she  murmurs  Walter 

dear? 
And  clings  with  all  a  woman's   love,    the  parting 

hour  is  near  ? 

IV. 

Oh  darling,  I've  a  message  from  my  father  o'er  the 

sea, 
I  go  to  him  to-morrow,   'though  my  heart  I   leave 

with  thee  ; 
Cheer  up  ;  'tis  but  a  little  while  and  we  shall  meet 

again, 
Oh  drive  from  out  those  tender  eyes  that  look  of 

fear  and  pain. 

v. 

Yes,  soon  I  will  return,  and  we  then  need  no  more 
conceal 

The  holy  ties  that  bind  us,  I'll  to  the  world  re 
veal  ; 

I'll  claim  thee  as  my  wedded  wife,  cheer  up  then, 
Queena  mine  ; 

My  father  will  receive  you,  all  is  well,  do  not  re 
pine. 


The  sunset's  dying  gleam  shone  o'er  a  fallen  figure 

there, 
And  on  the  passing  breeze  there  rang  a  wild  cry  of 

despair. 


Queena.  27 

Afar  across  the  sea  he  sails,  the  husband  of  her 
heart, 

God's  pity  on  the  love  that  sees  its  idol  thus  de 
part. 

VII. 

Six    years   have   winged    their   flight   above    life's 

dreary  tangled  maze, 
All  Paris  now  is  ringing  with  a  fair  young  singer's 

praise, 
And  Queena  is  the   lyric  soul  that  stirs  the  city 

grand, 
And  brings    her   subjects  to    her  feet  with  song's 

august  command. 

VIII. 

The  rich,  the  titled  'round  her  throng  ;  and  one,  a 
marquis  great, 

Proffers  his  mansion  for  her  home  and  all  his  vast 
estate  ; 

With  Queena,  goes  a  lovely  child  to  share  this  pal 
ace  home, 

Her  mother's  ward  she  says  to  those,  who  ques 
tion  while  they  roam. 

IX. 

But  who  is  this  approaching  her  and  clinging  to 

his  side, 
A  stately  proud  young  lady  who  is  soon  to  be  his 

bride  ? 


28  Queena. 

'Tis  Walter  :  As  she  gazes  on  that  face  to  her  un 
kind 

She  cries,  as  she  beholds  his  eyes  :  "  My  God,  he's 
blind  ;  he's  blind!" 

x. 

The  gloom  of  death  fall's  'round  her,  but  a  strong 

will  conquers  all, 
And    soon    the  old  familiar   voice  her  senses  now 

enthrall. 
"  Mam'selle,  the  language  of  sweet  flowers,  pray  tell 

me  do  you  know  ? 

This  rose,  an  emblem  of  my  friendship,  let  me 
thus  bestow. 

XI. 

"Your  voice,  oh  Mademoiselle  Reni,  doth  remind 
me  of  a  voice 

That  I  have  heard  in  other  years  that  made  my 
heart  rejoice  ; 

If  I  could  only  look  upon  your  face,  it  must  be  fair, 

For  all  the  goodness  of  your  heart  I  know  is  writ 
ten  there. 

XII. 

"A  sense  of  sweet  contentment,  do  I  feel  when  by 

your  side," — 
Alas,  for  poor,   poor  Queena,  how  her  heart  was 

sorely  tried  ; 


Queena.  29 

But  soon  the  strains  of  music  ushered  in  the  merry 

dance, 
And  then  to  claim  her  lover  did  the  beauty  proud 

advance ; 

XIII. 

y 

Her  dimpled  arms  she  placed  in  Walter's  with  a 

peerless  grace, 
Lord  Huntington,  it  was  his  son,  as  if  it  were  her 

place  ; 
Oh  cruel  was  the  pain  that  Queena  felt  at  this  sad 

hour, 
And  oh  the  woe,  the  agony,  that  were  her  wifely 

dower. 

XIV. 

The  beauty  spoke  of  one,  a  poor  and  humble 
country  girl 

Whom  Walter  knew  in  years  gone  by,  she  spoke 
with  lips  that  curl  ; 

Then  Queena  tore  a  locket  from  her  breast  and 
shouted,  "See  :" 

"  I  show  her  face  to  you  !  "  and  laughed  out  scorn 
fully. 

xv. 

"  Oh  God  !  I'm  mad  !  "  she  shouted  to  that  wild, 
excited  throng. 

The  beauty  said,  "  These  arms  unto  the  Hunting- 
ton's  belong  ;  " 


3O  Queena. 

Then  spake  my  Lord,    "  This  cannot  be."      "  'Tis 

true,"  poor  Queena  cried, 
"Six  years  ago  your  son  gave  this  to  me,  I  was 

his  bride  ! 

XVI. 

"America,    that  is  my  home,  and  there  we  twain 

were  wed, 
'Though  secretly,  yet  soon  from  me  your  son  was 

hither  led, 

And  this  the  locket  was  a  pledge  forevermore  to  be 
Of  our  God-hallowed  union  in  that  fair  land  of  the 
free." 

XVII. 

Poor  creature,  she  is  mad,  they  cried,  then  toward 

the  door  she  swept, 
"Who   says    that    I    am    mad,    Oh    God!"      In 

agony  she  wept  ; 
' '  What  eyes  are  those  that  burn  into  my  own   so 

wildly  sad, 
Heaven  help  me  now,   yes  I'm  mad,  yes  mad,  I 

am  mad." 

XVIII. 

Then  breathless  and  amazed  were  all.     She  flung 

at  Walter's  feet 
The  locket  which  had  been  his  gift  when  life  to  her 

was  sweet. 


Queena.  3 1 

Back  to  her  quiet  home  she  fled,  pressed  to  her 
heart  their  child 

Who  vainly  called  for  papa  'mid  her  tears  of  an 
guish  wild. 

XIX. 

Then,  as  she  sat  and  lonely  read  the  papers  which 

had  rent 
The  bonds  that  were  between  them,  by  her  misery 

o'erbent, 
A  step  approached,  a  voice  she  knew  so  sweetly 

called  her  name, 
"  O,  Queena,  see,  on  bended  knee,  forgive  me,  do 

not  blame  !  " 

xx. 

She  spurned  him.      "  Leave  me,  sir,"  she  cried. 

' '  This  paper  tells  you  all. 
Our  lives  are  severed  evermore,  love  gone  beyond 

recall." 
Then  through  the  doorway  came  their  little  child, 

so  sweet,  so  fair  ! 
"  Take  papa  back  for  my  sake,  mamma,"  fell  those 

accents  there. 

XXI. 

' '  Forgive  me,  for  I  read  your  death  in  lands  be 
yond  the  sea. 

Oh,  cast  me  not  from  out  your  heart  ;  dear 
Queena,  speak  to  me. 


32  Queena. 

But  sorrow  and  deep  suffering  all  these  years  I've 

seen, 
And  like  a  wanderer  from  sweet  heaven  all  these 

days  I've  been. 

XXII. 

' '  Do  you  recall  the  rose-bush  that  we  planted  ? ' ' 

then  he  said. 
"Its  roses,  like  our  love,"   wept  Queena,    "long 

ago  they  fled." 
"No,  Queena,  no;  we  thought  it  died,    but  like 

our  love,  my  own, 
'Tis  strengthened  and  'tis  nourished  by  the  storms 

that  it  hath  known." 

XXIII. 

"  O,  here's  a  rose  I  culled  from  it ;  a  token  may  it 

be 
Of  our  new  love,    God  grant  that  it  may  bloom 

eternally. ' ' 
Their  little  child  joined  both  their  hands,  and  all  the 

clouds  had  passed, 
And  thus  to  Queena,  out  of  tempest  came  her  joy 

at  last  ! 


o 


INSPIRATION. 

BEAUTIFUL    Goddess,   come   aid   me    to 
.     muse  ! 

Still  into  my  heart  thy  blest  spirit  infuse. 
Now,  over  my  being  waft  holiest  power, 
For  in  my  sad  life  thou  dost  lighten  each  hour. 

Thou  comest  unseen,  but  thy  mantle  we  feel, 
As  into  our  heart  thou  dost  silently  steal  ; 
So  calmly  thy  pinions  are  hovering  near, 
Inspiring  our  moments  with  heavenly  chter  ! 

Delay  not  !    I  wait  thee  !    Oh,  haste  to  me  now  ! 
At  the  shrine  of  thy  power,  thus  humbly  I  bow  ! 
I  longingly  sigh  for  thy  whisper  of  love, 
Oh,  come,  gentle  Goddess,  like  balm  from  above! 

Then  bear  me  still  onward  to  yon  blest  abode, 
While  I  list  to  the  strains  of  thy  heavenly  ode  ! 
For  in  yon  mystic  realm  ever  rock  me  to  sleep, 
Where  hosts  of  the  angels  thy  harp-strings  now 
sweep  ! 

Lo  !    Angelic  spirits  are  hovering  round  ! 
For  blest  peace  and  comfort  the  moments    have 
crowned  ; 

33 


34  Inspiration. 

And  e'en  from  the  bitterest  hour  of  a  life 

Thy  whispers  have  banished  the  care  and  the  strife. 

I  feel  that  the  hand  which  is  tracing  this  line 
Is  guided  by  heavenly  powers  divine  ! 
I  know  that  an  influence,  hallowed  and  pure, 
Is  bidding  me  teach  other  hearts  to  endure  ! 

Without  thy  sweet  influence,  thy  power  divine, 
Our   words    are   but   meaningless,    dear   Goddess 

mine  ! 
And  e'en  though  our  conscience  prompt  to  good 

deeds, 
Thy  spirit  'tis  guides  us,  and  answers  our  needs. 

All  life  with  thy  magical  power  is  blest  ! 

It  hallows  our  labor  and  beautifies  rest  ! 

It  gilds  every  moment  with  loving  delight, 

And  brightens  the  soul,  as  the  stars  do  the  night. 

Oh,  thankfully  ever  thy  joys  we  receive  ! 
Be  swift  in  thy  visits, — be  slow  us  to  leave  ! 
We  yearn  for  thy  influence  earnest  and  strong  ; 
Oh,  come,  gentle  Goddess,  with  rapturous  song  ! 


LIGHT  OF  MY  LIFE  ! 

LIGHT   of  my    Life  !     I    groped    in    cheerless 
dark, 

Until  thy  smile  first  dawned  on  me ! 
My  heart  the  dove,  and  thine  the  ark, 
Upon  the  tossed  and  troubled  sea  ! 
Light  of  my  Life  ! 

I  looked  to  thee  for  Hope,  for  Peace, 
And  found  these  in  thine  arms  again  ! 

The  cares  of  day  had  then  surcease, 
And  fled  the  anguish  and  the  pain, — 
Light  of  my  Life  ! 

One  thought  alone  lives  in  my  heart, — 

One  wish, — to  thee  enfold  ! 
To  speak  these  words  :      ' '  No  more  apart 

We'll  bide  !  "     Oh,  bliss  untold,- 
Light  of  my  Life  ! 

Oh,  live  the  time  ;  'twill  not  be  late 

Ere  God  shall  join  a  love  so  true  ! 
My  soul  still  pleads  at  heaven's  gate, 

That  soon  we  may  not  say  adieu  ! — 
Light  of  my  Life  ! 


35 


HEART  LONGINGS. 

OH,  how  we  reach  our  hands  to  grasp 
Food  for  the  hungry  soul  ! 
We  hope  and  yearn  and  wish  and  wait, 
While  years  so  swiftly  roll  ! 

We  know  that  earth  will  pass  away, 

We  sigh  for  something  real  ; 
Oh,  what  is  that  for  which  we  long,— 

The  soul's  far-off  ideal  ? 

We  still  can  taste  the  joys  of  earth, 

But  our  hunger  will  return  ! 
There's  something  always  gleams  afar 

For  which  the  heart  will  yearn  ! 

The  sweetest  music  we  can  hear, 

In  symphony  and  song  ; 
But  hearts  will  yearn  for  something  still, 

Till  they  to  Christ  belong  ! 

When  we  have  given  all  to  Him, 

We  never  know  a  fear  ! 
He  leads  us  gently  by  the  hand, 

He  ever  lingers  near  ! 

36 


Heart  Longings.  37 

His  gospel  is  the  richest  feast  ! 

It  fills  the  hungry  heart  ! — 
And  while  we  journey  on  our  way 

Becomes  of  life  a  part  ! 

Ah  !  still  he  calls  :      "  Come  unto  Me  ! 

And  I  will  give  you  rest  ! ' ' 
He  guideth  us,  Oh,  longing  heart, 

To  that  sweet  Home  so  blest  ! 


A  WEDDING  RHYME. 

MISS    MOLLIE    DEVENDORF.       DR.    BRAHMAN 

MEDING. 

FROM  this  canopy  bright  of  fair  daisies, 
May  your  lives  that  now  mingle  glide  on, 
Like  a  violet,  through  woodland  mazes, 
Till  the  great  sea  before  you*  is  won  ! 

As  the  sun  gleameth  softly  this  morning, 
May  the  moments  of  life  ever  shine  ; 

And  each  day  be  a  bridal-day  dawning, 
With  a  hope  and  a  love  still  divine  ! 

Though  the  daisies  may  wither  and  perish, 
There  are  blossoms  deep  down  in  the  heart 

That  the  dew  of  affection  will  cherish, — 
That  will  sweetness  forever  impart  ! 

May  the  fair  silken  ties  that  now  bind  you, 
Clasp  you  stronger  as  time  glides  away, 

May  the  sunbeams  of  life  ever  find  you  ; 
Strewn  with  daisies  be  each  passing  day  ! 


PHCEBE. 

FOR    A    CHILD. 

WHEN  leaves  hang  listlessly,  at  noon, 
And  even  bees  forget  to  croon, 
A  plaintive  voice  calls,  soft  and  low, 
"  Phoebe  !  " — Would  you  the  story  know? 

Two  tiny  girls,  set  out,  one  day, 

For  school,  but  wildflowers  whispered,  "  Play  !  " 

A  merry  brook  sang,  "  Follow  me  ! 

These  woods  have  splendid  sights  to  see. 

We'll  ramble  through  these  fair  green  dells, 

And  search  for  lovely  lily-bells. 

See  !  here  are  nice  stones  for  your  feet  ; 

Cross  over,  never  fear,  my  sweet  !  " 

Lo  each,  unthinking,  crossed  the  brook, 
And  strayed  from  mossy  nook  to  nook, 
And  listened  to  the  leaves  that  spoke, 
In  whispers,  from  the  bending  oak  ; 
And  saw,  from  thick-leaved  bushes  near, 
Shy  birds  peep  out  and  at  them  peer, 
As  if  to  say  :      "  What  birds  are  these  ? 
We'll  trill  a  song  their  ears  to  please." 

39 


40  Phoebe. 

'Tis  said  a  fairy  happened  by, 

And  two  young  sleepers  chanced  to  spy  ; 

For  they  were  wearied  out  with  fun, 

And  warm  and  drowsy  grew  the  sun. 

"Ho!     Ho!"     winked  he,  "  intruders  here  ? 

Truants  from  school,  that's  very  clear. 

I'll  wake  them  up  ;  a  trick  !  a  trick  ! 

I'll  play  upon  them,"  quoth  he,  "quick  ! 

They'd  make  nice  birds,  upon  my  word  !  " 

A  touch, — and  each  woke  up  a  bird  ! 

They  hopped  away,  and  flew  o'erhead 

Where  sunlit  boughs  above  them  spread. 

They  dipped  their  soft  wings  in  the  stream, 

And  fluttered  in  its  diamond  gleam. 

They  reveled  in  the  sweet,  blue  sky, — 

Flew,  as  the  other  birdies  fly  ; 

But,  ere  the  dewy  twilight  fell, 

They'd  lost  each  other  in  the  dell  ; 

And  all  night  long  they'd  pined  alone, 

And  when  the  early  morning  shone, 

Each  called  the  other  pleadingly, 

From  bush  to  bush,  from  tree  to  tree. 

And  that's  the  reason,  I've  heard  say, 

A  bird  calls  "  Phcebe  !  "  to  this  dav. 


UNFORGOTTEN. 

TO  MY  FRIEND,   MRS.   H.   J.   S.       IN  MEMORY  OF 
HER    HUSBAND. 

THOUGH  long  years  have  passed,  beloved, 
Since  from  me  you  went  away, 
Yet  you  still  are  unforgotten, 
Even  for  a  single  day  ! 

'Twas  the  deepest  love  that  bound  us, 
Heart  to  heart,  and  mind  to  mind  ; 

Thoughts  of  you  are  all  that  cheer  me, — 
All  the  joy  on  earth  I  find  ! 

Husband  mine,  methinks  your  spirit 

Hovers  near,  at  starry  eve, 
Bringing  to  me  precious  comfort, — 

Bidding  me  no  more  to  grieve  ! 

We  have  strewn  sweet  garlands  o'er  you, 
Watered  with  our  blinding  tears  ; 

We  have  sought  the  mound  that  hides  you, 
All  these  sad  and  lonely  years. 

Oh,  yon  resting  place  is  sacred  ! 

You  have  seemed  so  near  me  there  ! 
I  have  hallowed  it  with  roses, 

Lilies  bright  and  pure  and  fair. 

41 


42  Unf or  gotten. 

Through  the  mists  and  shadows  lead  me 
To  that  Home  of  peace  above, 

Where  again  we'll  be  united 

By  our  God  whose  name  is  Love  ! 

Unforgotten  is  that  memory, 
Still  to  me  a  priceless  gem  ! 

Fadeless  as  the  rays  that  sparkle 
In  an  angel's  diadem  ! 

Oh,  the  child  of  our  adoption, 
Who  has  well  repaid  our  care, 

Walks  with  me  life's  path,  to  meet  you, 
In  our  Father's  mansion  fair  ! 


"OH!    FOR  THE  TOUCH  OF  A  VANISHED 
HAND!" 

!  for  the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand, 
The  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still  !  " 
We're  longing  to  meet  that  silent  band, 
Who  bowed  to  the  Father's  will  ! 

Oh,  sacred  sorrow  !     Oh,  wretched  gloom  ! — 

The  shadow  and  pall  of  death  ! 
We  follow  our  loved  ones  to  the  tomb, 

While  we  gaze  with  bated  breath. 

The  death  of  a  loved  one,  gone  to  God, 
Seems  a  dreaded  theme  to  some  ! 

They  cannot  see  the  chastening  rod, 
Their  hearts  seem  cold  and  dumb. 

Those  who  passed  away,  within  the  vale, 

Anchored  with  faith  so  sure, 
Will  nevermore  feel  earth's  stormy  gale, 

In  that  heavenly  land  so  pure  ! 

To-day  we  would  lay  a  tribute  there, 
O'er  the  graves  of  our  loved  so  dear  ; 

And  courage  take,  our  cross  to  bear, 
And  be  brave,  for  God  is  near. 

43 


44   ' '  Oh  .'  For  the  Touch  of  a  Vanished  Hand  !  ' ' 

When  with  a  loved  one  we're  called  to  part, 

On  earth  to  meet  nevermore, 
It  touches  a  deeper  chord  in  the  heart — 

Than  ever  was  stirred  before. 

'Tis  then  that  the  cry  comes  to  one  and  all 

To  awake  to  a  nobler  life  ; 
To  list  to  the  spirit's  warning  call, 

And  fearlessly  meet  the  strife. 

Hark  !  from  the  beautiful  gates  ajar 
We  can  hear  loved  voices  float  ; 

And,  in  that  music  borne  afar, 
Our  loved  sing  the  sweetest  note  ! 

Let  us  be  led  by  the  vanished  hand, 

It  must  beckon  us  not  in  vain  ; 
For  in  that  beautiful  summer  land 

We  shall  meet  all  our  loved  again  ! 


TWO  IN  ONE. 

TWO  clouds  of  yonder  tranquil  sky, 
In  peaceful  motion  met  my  gaze  ; 
They  glided  onward,  each  drew  nigh, 
Until,  at  last,  their  mingled  rays 
Sparkled  in  glories  all  divine  ! 
Oh,  such  thy  Life  and  mine  ! 

Alone  I  walked  the  road  of  Life, 
Endured  its  bitterness  and  strife  ; 
A  light  shone  on  my  troubled  way, 
And  Lo  !  the  darkness  turned  to  day  !  — 
It  was  the  light  of  Love  divine, — 
Oh,  such  thy  Love  and  mine  ! 

I  saw  two  buds,  at  Springtime's  glow 

Come  forth  to  beautify  the  earth  ; 
They  grew,  as  hearts  together  grow, 

At  Love's  all-hallowed,  rapturous  birth  ! 
Until  a  blended  rose  both  shine, — 
Oh,  thus  thy  heart  and  mine  ! 


45 


I  LONG  FOR  THOSE  BRIGHT  EYES  ! 

HPHE  roses  long,  in  Summer  sweet, 

I       For  dew-drops,  pearly  fair  ; 
The  brooklet  sighs  the  sea  to  meet,— 

Its  fond  embrace  to  share  ; 
Fond  hearts  that  day  has  parted  here — 

Oft  yearn  for  starry  skies  ; 
But  evermore,  till  Life  is  o'  er, 

I  long  for  those  bright  eyes  ! 

I  care  not  for  the  sunlit  sheen 

That  broods  o'er  vales  and  hills  ; 
Or  zephyrs,  fragrant  and  serene, 

That  dimple  all  the  rills  ; 
The  glory  of  the  sunset  hour 

Of  wondrous  tints  and  dyes, — 
Over  my  heart  these  have  no  power, — 

I  long  for  those  bright  eyes  ! 

I  long  for  them,  when  Life  grows  sad 

With  overclouding  care  ; 
I  long  for  them,  when  bright  and  glad 

The  world  seems  everywhere  ! 
Whate'er  the  years  may  bring  to  me, 

One  thought  will  still  arise  : 
I  long,  dear  heart,  thy  face  to  see, — 

I  long  for  those  bright  eyes  ! 

46 


NOT  ALONE. 

NOT  alone.     Ah  !  not  alone, 
When  I  can  think  of  friends  my  own 
Though  absent  from  my  sight,  my  heart 
Still  in  their  being  has  its  part. 
Each  image  ever  present  seems, 
Each  lives  in  all  my  hopes,  my  dreams  ; 
In  Fancy  falls  each  voice's  tone, 
Though  parted,  I  am  not  alone, — 
Ah  !  not  alone. 

Not  alone,  when  I  recall 
Those  tender  words  were  wont  to  fall, — 
Those  smiles  that  never  failed  to  cheer, 
And  lighter  made  Life's  burdens  drear. 
The  star  of  Hope  still  fondly  shines, 
And  Memory  still  round  thee  twines  ; 
Oh,  since  bright  eyes  have  on  me  shone, 
I  nevermore  can  be  alone, — 

Ah  !  not  alone. 

Not  alone, — I  know  that  thou, 
Dear  friend,  art  thinking  of  me  now  ! 
A  golden  thread  of  sympathy, 
Through  space  unites  my  heart  to  thee  ! 

47 


48  Autumn. 

And  so  a  weary  Life  is  blest 
For  thou  art  still  my  hourly  guest ! 
We  ne'er  may  meet,  'till  the  unknown, 
And  yet,  I  ne'er  can  be  alone, — 
Ah  !  not  alone. 


AUTUMN. 

AS  the  leaves  are  slowly  fading, — 
Leaves  of  purple,  red  and  gold, 
Sorrow  is  my  spirit  shading, 
And  an  anguish  all  untold  ! 

Oh,  the  winds,  so  chill  and  dreary, 

Heralding  the  ermine  snow  ! 
Echoed  in  my  heart  so  weary 

After  Summer's  golden  glow  ! 

Yet,  there  is  a  voice  that  telleth  : 

"  Look  beyond  this  dearth  and  Death  ! 

God  through  clouds  of  Winter  dwelleth 
As  He  does  through  Summer's  breath  !  " 


FOREVERMORE. 

NO  other  word  from  out  my  heart 
Can  all  its  eloquence  impart ; 
There  is  no  word  that  can  express 
My  soul's  dear  joy  and  happiness, 
Like  this  one  that  I  murmur  o'er, — 
Forevermore  !     Forevermore  ! 
Thine,  thine,  forevermore  ! 

In  all  of  Life's  vicissitudes, 
Where  woe  so  oft  on  bliss  intrudes  ; 
In  every  heart-throb  that  one  thought 
Sets  every  other — yea,  as  naught  ! 
My  boundless  Hope  it  doth  restore  ! 

Forevermore  !     Forevermore  ! 

Thine,  thine,  forevermore  ! 

What  are  the  days  of  suffering, 
And  all  that  loneliness  may  bring  ? 
One  hope,  one  blissful  hope  is  mine, 
When  stars  no  more  for  me  will  shine, 
We'll  meet  on  yon  celestial  shore, — 

Forevermore  !     Forevermore  ! 

Thine,  thine,  forevermore  ! 


49 


WHERE'ER  I  GO. 

1  CANNOT  lose  thee  from  mine  eyes  ! 
I  gaze  upon  the  sea, 
When  stars  begem  the  purpled  skies, — 

Each  star  recalls  but  thee  ! 
I  listen  to  the  waves  that  sigh 

Along  the  snow-white  shore  ; 
Thy  name,  they  breathe,  soft  rippling  by, 
Forevermore  ! 

The  first  sweet  buds  of  Spring  unfold 

Thy  fairness  to  my  sight  ; 
In  leaves  of  crimson  and  of  gold 

I  read  thy  glorious  light ! 
Among  the  crowd  of  busy  streets 

I  greet  thee  o'er  and  o'er  ; 
An  inward  voice  thy  name  repeats, — 
Forevermore  ! 

There  is  no  day,  in  storm  or  shine, 
When  thou'rt  remembered  not  ! 

My  dearest  hopes  'round  thee  entwine, — 
Thou  ne'er  shalt  be  forgot  ! 

And  all  through  God's  eternity, 
When  earth  for  us  is  o'er, 

My  Heaven  shall  be  in  loving  thee, — 
Forevermore  ! 

50 


ONLY  A  WORD. 

ONLY  a  word  as  light  as  air  ! 
But  oh,  a  heart  it  broke, 
A  spirit  glad,  a  home  so  fair, 
To  pain  and  sadness  woke  ! 

Only  a  word, — to  ban,  to  bless, 

It  falls,  from  hour  to  hour  ; 
A  boon  of  untold  tenderness, 

A  curse  of  mighty  power. 

Only  a  word,  a  heart  in  woe 

Came  back  to  joy,  to  life  ! 
It  brought  to  cheeks  the  brightened  glow, 

And  hushed  the  bosom's  strife. 

Only  a  word,  a  path  was  turned 

That  led  to  darkest  sin, — 
A  reckless  soul  its  mission  learned 

Life's  heritage  within  ! 

Only  a  word, — two  hearts  are  one  ! 

That  listened  there  and  heard  ; 
T\vo  paths  in  Love  forever  run, 

Because  of  that  sweet  word  ! 


THE  LILIES. 

OH,  lilies  in  your  loveliness, 
I  gazed  on  you  in  dreams, 
Before'the  sunlight  came  to  bless, 
And  wake  you  with  its  beams  ! 
Your  simple  beauty  seemed  to  say  : 

' '  We  bloom  for  all  below, 
And  shall  they  not  sweet  homage  pay 
Ere  winds  of  winter  blow? " 

Oh,  lilies,  in  your  peaceful  smile 

I  saw  the  smile  of  One, 
The  Pure,  the  Holy,  past  all  guile, 

God's  well-beloved  Son  ! 
For  has  He  not  extolled  your  grace 

Of  all  the  flowers  that  grow  ? 
Within  my  heart  I  keep  a  place 

For  you,  oh,  flowers  of  snow  ! 


LITTLE  WHITE  GRAVE. 

LITTLE  white  grave,  oh,  silently  there, 
A  solemn  story  you  tell  : 
Of  hopes  and  burdens  so  bitter  to  bear, 

Breathing  a  deep  mournful  knell. 
Saddened  our  hearts,  to  look  on  thee 

WhaCanguish  untold  we  share  ; 
Merciful  God,  oh,  can  it  be 
Our  darling  is  resting  there  ? 

CHORUS. 

Good-bye,  dear  little  sacred  spot, 

Beneath  the  clinging  vine, 
Oh  it  shalt  never  be  forgot, — 

Blest  little  grave  of  thine  ! 
We  know  that  winter  cometh  soon, 

With  ermine  frosts  and  snow, 
This  vine  will  twine  one  little  boon 

O'er  thy  dear  grave  so  low  ! 

Bright/angel  child,  why  could  we  not  keep 
Thee  here  in  our  earthly  home  ? 

Oh,  darling,  we  now  so  bitterly  weep, 
With  hearts  all  sad  and  lone  ; 

These  pure  white  flowers  will  silently  tell 
Of  thy  own  pure  life,  my  boy, 

53 


54  Little  White  Grave. 

Emblem  to  us,  who  loved  thee  so  well, 
Of  heavenly  peace  and  joy. 

CHORUS: — 

I  eagerly  listen  ;  the  message  I  hear, 

"  A  little  child  ever  shall  lead," 
'Mid   storms    and  darkness   this    thought   shall 
cheer, — 

Assurance  most  blessed  indeed. 
Can  all  this  toil  and  talent  be  lost  ? 

Are  earthly  hopes  withered  dreams  ? 
But  though  on  life's  dark  billows  we're  tossed 

One  ray  o'er  our  path  still  gleams. 

CHORUS: — 

Saviour,  our  trust  now  on  Thee  is  stayed, 

Thou  wilt  make  all  plainer  at  last ; 
Our  burden-bearer  Thou  truly  wast  made, 

All  sorrows  will  soon,  soon  be  past. 
Then  lead  Thou  on,  Choir  Master  divine, 

Our  Hope  through  time  Thou  shalt  be  ; 
We  hear  now  Thy  call,  we  bow  at  Thy  shrine, 

Lead  on  we  will  follow  Thee. 

CHORUS: — 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

A  WONDERFUL  book  is  the  Book  of  Life, 
Its  treasures  how  vast  to  define  ! 
'Tis  our  God  revealing  to  all  mankind 
His  message  of  grandeur  sublime  ! 

Its  language  prophetic,  the  soul  of  truth, 
Recorded  by  hearts  that  were  pure  ; 

Inspired  with  power  from  Him  on  high, 
Thus,  one  with  His  name,  to  endure  ! 

One  Author  dictated  who  rules  us  all, 

Infusing  His  utterance  therein  ; 
The  Holy  Spirit  directed  His  work 

To  shield  us  from  sorrow  and  sin  ! 

And,  methinks  when  God  wrote  the  final  word, 

He  said  to  the  angelic  fold, — 
"  Let  all  the  nations  of  earth  rejoice, 

Though  half  of  My  glory's  untold  ! " 

And  when  the  great  work  was  completed  there, 
What  loud  hallelujahs  were  sung  ; 

For  marvelous  works  were  therein  revealed 
For  nations  of  every  tongue  ! 

55 


56  Thoughts  on  the  Bible. 

Surely  one  proof  of  this  Book  is  the  Church, 
Its  protection  so  strong  and  true, — 

Its  foundation  sure,  like  a  wall  built  round, 
Spreading  faith  ever  old,  yet  new  ! 

We're  sure  God  Almighty  inspired  the  Book, 
Because  'tis  the  food  of  the  soul  ! 

As  true  as  the  very  air  we  breathe, 
Enduring  while  planets  roll  ! 

Who  could  have  forseen  in  that  dark  age  ; 

When  idolatry  reigned  around, 
Excepting  the  high,  the  holiest  one 

To  whom  our  lives  should  be  bound  ? 

The  Being  who  wrote  that  first  great  command, 
The  human  heart  also  did  make  ; 

Our  minds  can  conceive  his  wondrous  works, 
And  to  nobler  life  we  awake  ! 

Oh  !  birds  of  the  morn  that  heavenward  fly, 
What  a  difference  'twixt  you  and  me  ! 

Your  grief  is  so  short,  while  we  cannot  forget, 
While  we're  mourning  continually. 

But  we  know  our  Father  hath  given  command 

To  us  "to  serve  Him  alone  ! 
Before  me  no  other  Gods  thou  shalt  have  !  " 

His  will,  ever  be  our  own  ! 


Thoughts  on  the  Bible.  57 

And  again  we  open  His  Book,  and  read  : 
If  we  wish  our  days  long  in  the  land, 

Our  parents  dear  we  must  honor  and  love, 
Thus  keeping  His  precept  grand. 

From  Genesis  on  to  the  end  of  the  Book 
Oh  !  what  strains  of  divine  command  ! 

God  leading  nations,  with  power  supreme, 
To  the  beautiful  Promised  Land  ! 

The  Book  stands  unchallenged  for  Truth,  to-day  ! 

When  this  world  was  formed,  none  can  tell  ; 
"  In  the  beginning  was  Light !  "   God  said 

'Tis  sufficient,  and  all  is  well  ! 

It  may  have  stood  millions  of  years  or  more, 

Geology  proves  it  to-day  ; 
So  "in  the  beginning,"  whenever  it  was, 

We  accept  it,  and  who  would  say  nay  ? 

Now,  of  inspiration,  some  do  not  believe  ; 

Not  many  we  know  have  possessed 
This  infusion  divine  with  its  power  sublime, 

Very  few  have  by  it  been  blessed. 

Just  now  this  great  truth  is  forced  on  our  mind 

By  the  little  boy  Hoffmann  to-day  ; 
For  he  follows  in  harmony  grand,  Mozart, 

With  music's  all  powerful  sway. 


58  Thoughts  on  the  Bible, 

And  Webster,  too,  with  his  mental  force 

Superior  to  friends  or  kin  ; 
A  great  power  guided  his  work  on  earth, 

Vast  knowledge  from  him  we  win. 

And  Franklin  caught  the  electric  spark 

From  the  canopied,  starry  sky  ! 
Thus  connecting  earth,  from  shore  to  shore, 

Almost  reaching  to  worlds  on  high. 

It  was  softly  whispered  in  Edison's  ear 

To  invent  the  great  telephone  ; 
Linking  the  thoughts  of  the  world  by  its  power 

As  they  travel  from  zone  to  zone  ! 

Some   say,     "who    is    He,"    and    "where   is   this 
God?" 

"  God  is  thought !  "   thus  Harzal  doth  say  ; 
Spencer  says  "  Unknowable  !  "   Carlyle  "  Force!  " 

Put  we  such  thoughts  far  away  ! 

God  is  a  Spirit  I  read  to-day, 

My  Saviour,  guardian  and  friend  ; 
The  Bread  of  Life  to  His  children  dear 

Forevermore  He  doth  send  ! 


GRANDPA'S  VISION. 

WHILST  I  on  my  pillow  was  lying, 
On  last  Decoration  Day  eve, 
The  whispering  breeze,  softly  sighing, 
Seemed  bidding  my  soul  not  to  grieve. 

A  vision  was  hovering  o'er  me, — 

A  rapturous  vision  of  Peace; 
No  worldly  thought  lingered  before  me, 

Each  care  had  a  restful  release. 

Then,  as  the  sweet  vision  came  nearer, 
My  Georgie's  bright  face  I  could  see, 

Which  now  unto  me  was  much  dearer, 
Than  all  this  world's  glory  could  be! 

A  whisper,  as  loving  eyes  met  me, 
With  sweetest  of  smiles  on  his  face, — 

"  Dear  grandpa,  I  ne'er  can  forget  thee, 
E'en  though  in  this  heavenly  place  !  " 

With  angel  arms  now  he  enfolds  me, 
And  stamps  his  sweet  kiss  on  my  brow; 

His  presence  celestial  now  holds  me, 
And  comfort  to  me  doth  endow  ! 

59 


6o  Grandpa's   Vision. 

A  myth,  or  a  dream,  or  a  spirit, — 

Oh,  call  it  whatever  you  may  ! 
'Twas  joy  beyond  life  to  be  near  it, 

And  it  lighted  my  heart  with  its  ray  ! 

Sweet  vision,  come  oft  to  caress  me  ! 

Enfold  your  bright  wings  o'er  my  life  ! 
And  with  your  fond  kisses  oft  bless  me, 

And  scatter  the  darkness  and  strife  ! 

My  old  heart  is  sure  you  are  treasured 
And  safe  from  the  world's  weary  care; 

God's  love  which  surrounds  you,  unmeasured, 
Ah,  how  could  I  wish  you  not  there  ! 

Safe,  safe  in  that  bright  home  above'us, 
All  sheltered  from  sorrow  and  sin, 

We  know  that  you  tenderly  love  us, — 
God's  angels  have  folded  you  in  ! 


Only  one  year  ago  to-night, — 
Ah,  grandpa's  blue-eyed  boy, 

How  brave  you  spoke  for  truth  and  right, - 
Your  mother's  hope  and  joy  ! 

I  never  shall  forget  your  face, 

That  beamed  with  looks  so  bright, 

As  you  came  forth,  with  manly  grace, 
Last  Decoration  night ! 


Grandpas   Vision.  61 

Alas!  that  in  so  short  a  time 

You  in  the  grave  were  laid  ! 
And  there,  in  glory's  peaceful  clime, 

With  angels  are  arrayed  ! 

But  sad  and  lonely  though  we  are, 

This  Decoration  Eve, 
We  hearken  to  a  voice  afar 

Which  bids  us  ne'er  to  grieve  ! 

Oh,  as  we  list,  we'll  courage  take, 
And  say  "  God's  will  be  done  !  " 

Trying  on  earth  this  life  to  make 
A  holy,  useful  one  ! 

To-day  we  lingered  o'er  your  grave, 

That  hallowed,  quiet  spot  ! 
While  flowers  were  strewn  o'er  soldiers  brave, 

We  could  forget  you  not  ! 

And  so  we  brought  sweet  buds  to-day, 

And  scattered  them  around: 
Oh,  did  you  see,  from  far  away, 

That  peaceful  burial  mound  ? 

We  made  a  beauteous  bower  there, 

Above  your  resting  place; 
We  strewed  the  garlands  sweet  and  fair 

Above  your  precious  face  ! 


62  Time. 

And  while  with  saddened  hearts  we  prayed, 
Low  bending  o'er  your  mound, 

Your  spirit  then  we  knew  had  strayed 
From  Heaven,  and  us  had  found  ! 

And  meet  it  seemed  to  decorate 

Your  little  grave  with  flowers, 
Who  spake  for  right,  with  boyhood's  might, 

Oh,  soldier  dear  of  ours  ! 


TIME. 

SIT'ST  thou  idly  asking  why 
Time  so  swiftly  passes  by  ? 
Can  we  buy  a  month  or  year  ? 
Could  we  call  back  moments  dear? 
No!  the  moments  precious,  fly, 
Tick  by  tick,  they  wander  by  ! 
Idle  not,  then,  one  bright  hour, 
Time  is  still  Life's  grandest  dower. 
Transient,  fleeting,  at  its  best, 
Voyage  on  Life's  ocean  breast; 
As  we  softly  downward  glide 
With  the  hand  of  Time  to  guide. 
What  though  Time  doth  changes  bring, 
Wounds  us  with  his  cruel  sting  ? 


To  Mother.  63 

He  doth  also  try  to  heal, 
And  with  mortals  gently  deal. 
When  he  e'en  takes  all  away, — 
All  that  made  life  bright  and  gay, — 
Welcome  is  his  quickened  pace. 
For  we'll  soon  have  won  our  race  ! 
Who  would  call  him  back  again, 
With  his  hours  of  silent  pain  ? 
Rather  speed  him  in  his  flight 
Than  recall  one  heart-worn  fight  ! 
For,  as  sure  as  Life  begins, 
'Tis  a  fight  to  him  who  wins  ! 
And,  when  on  our  couch  we  lie, 
When  we  say:   "  Old  Time,  good-by  !  " 
When  we  reach  yon  fairer  clime, 
Then,  perhaps  we'll  know  thee,  Time  ! 


TO  MOTHER. 

EVER  the  same  the  river  flows; 
Ever  the  same  is  childhood's  mirth; 
Ever  the  same  the  sunset  glows; 
Ever  the  same  is  Springtime's  birth. 

Ever  the  same  is  Summer's  flight; 

Ever  the  same  are  stars  above; 
Ever  the  same  are  Truth  and  Right, 

Ever  the  same  is  Mother's  love  ! 


FIVE  LITTLE  LEAVES. 

FOR    A    CHILD. 

FIVE  little  leaves,  one  autumn  day, 
Set  out  to  have  a  sail; 
They  met  a  brook  upon  their  way, 
As  they  danced  before  the  gale. 

Their  names  were,  Purple,  Gold  and  Brown, 
And  Red,  and  Crimson  bright; 

They  whispered,  "  We'll  go  floating  down, 
But  all  come  back  ere  night. 

"  Stop,  silver  brook  !  we'll  go  along:" 

The  brook  said  ne'er  a  word, 
Although  it  lisped  a  warning  song 

These  silly  leaves  ne'er  heard. 

"  Oh,  pretty  leaves,  your  mother-tree 

You  never  will  see  more, 
If  you  go  sailing  down  with  me, — 

You'd  better  stay  on  shore  !  " 

Five  little  leaves  went  sailing  by, 

Like  fairy  boats  were  they; 
The  autumn  sun  as  yet  was  high, 

The  night  was  far  away. 
64 


My  Dearest  Heart.  65 

They  saw  no  more  the  mother-tree  ! 

And,  if  you'll  go  and  look, 
Like  jewels,  every  one  you'll  see 

Deep  down  within  the  brook  ! 


MY  DEAREST  HEART. 

THE    days    were  dark   before  you  brought  me 
gladness, 

But  in  your  smiles  I  saw  the  beaming  sun  ! 
The  clouds  no  more  enfold  my  soul  in  sadness, 

The  storms  that  filled  my  way  are  past  and  done. 
You  came  to  bless  and  comfort  me  forever, 

Your   glances   whisper:     "Love,   we  ne'er  shall 

part  ! ' ' 
Each    thought   is  yours,  and   not   e'en  Death  can 

sever 
Our  paths,  my  dearest  heart,  my  dearest  heart  ! 

I  sighed  for  you,  through  days  of  hopeless  sorrow; 

At  last,  we  met,  as  true  hearts  always  meet ! 
The  past  was  dead,  and  joy  illumed  each  morrow, 

For  in  your  eyes  I  read  love's  lesson  sweet  ! 
You  came  to  me  when  every  link  seemed  broken; 

The  years  were  long  that  kept  our  lives  apart  ! 
But  now  you're  mine  by  every  tender  token, 

My  own, — my  dearest  heart,  my  dearest  heart  ! 


66  Thanksgiving. 

I  fear  no  more  the  future's  way  before  me, 

While  you  may  walk,  an  angel,  by  my  side  ! 
The  star  of  Hope  is  fondly  shining  o'er  me, 

And  down  the  stream  of  Time  we'll  softly  glide. 
Within  your  eyes  I  see  but  rapture  gleaming, 

It  bids  each  shadow  from  my  life  depart  ! 
The  light  of  love  for  me  is  ever  beaming, 

My  joy, — my  dearest  heart,  my  dearest  heart  ! 


THANKSGIVING. 

HOW  matchless  are  Thy  mercies  Lord 
How  boundless  is  Thy  love  ! 
With  grateful  hearts  we  bow  to  Thee, 

Our  King  enthroned  above. 
We  sing  Thy  praise  with  thankfulness  ; 

Thy  grace,  oh,  may  we  share  ! 
Can  we  forget  Thy  benefits, — 
Thy  kindly  guardian  care  ? 

Though  many,  bowed  with  hopeless  grief, 

Thy  power  cannot  define, 
We  recognize  the  hand  that  smites 

As  Wisdom  most  divine. 
Thy  tenderness,  oh,  may  we  prise, 

And  say  "  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 
Still  may  we  look  through  darkest  night 

And  see  Hope's  radiant  sun. 


Through  Dark,  To  Light.  67 

Thanks  for  the  earth  whereon  we  live, — 

Our  joys,  our  loved  ones  near. 
Thanks  for  the  blessings  Thou  hast  showered 

With  each  returning  year. 
Thanks  for  the  Saviour  Thou  hast  given, 

With  humbleness  we  pray, 
And  offer  up  our  thanks  to  Thee 

This  blest  Thanksgiving  day. 


THROUGH  DARK,   TO  LIGHT. 

Thou  the  Judge,  oh,  God  !  "  I  prayed, 
Nor  was  Thine  answer  long  delayed. 

For  soon  the  shadows  that  were  thrown, 

Above  my  earthly  way,  had  flown. 

Amid  the  blackness  of  the  night, 

Behold  anew  Thy  glorious  light. 

Thy  hand,  oh,  Saviour,  leads  the  way 
From  darkness  to  the  perfect  day. 
God's  shadows  were  to  try  my  soul, 
Till  won,  at  last,  the  Heavenly  goal. 
With  thankful  heart  I  give  Thee  praise, 
Oh,  Father,  all  my  earthly  days ! 

'Tis  through  the  burden  and  the  Cross, — 
The  pain,  the  sorrow,  and  the  loss, — 


68  Separation. 

The  spirit  tried,  as  though  by  fire, 

That  onward,  upward,  hearts  aspire. 

"  Be  Thou  the  Judge  !  "   I  prayed  to  Thee, 

Oh,  God,  and  Thou  hast  answered  me  ! 


SEPARATION. 

HOW  long  the  hours  until  we  meet, 
How  slowly  pass  the  day  and  night. 
There  is  no  bloom  in  summer  sweet, 
Unshared  with  thee,  my  hope  my  light. 

I  tell  Love's  story  o'er  and  o'er, 

In  words  that  thou  hast  breathed  to  me  ; 

My  heart  but  loves  thee  more  and  more 
While  absence  keeps  my  days  from  thee. 

The  flowers  repeat  in  fragrance  rare 
The  utterance  of  thy  dear  eyes  ; 

In  every  thought,  and  wish,  and  prayer, 
In  dawn  and  radiant  sunset  skies, — 

Thy  face  appears,  to  bless  and  cheer, 
And  yet,  my  heart  is  lone  and  sad, 

My  all  of  joy  is  when  thou'rt  near  ; 
In  thy  sweet  glance,  alone,  I'm  glad. 

Oh,  Love  !    Immortal,  hallowed  love  ! 
How  can  I  bide  the  hours  of  gloom  ? 


Separation.  69 

I  watch  the  tranquil  stars  above, 

And  wonder  why  'tis  Love's  sad  doom 

To  linger,  heart  from  heart,  so  long, 
For  thy  sweet  presence  makes  to  me, 

In  every  moment,  one  fond  song  ; 
Life,  bliss  and  rapturous  melody. 

Oh,  cross  of  love  that  we  must  bear  ! 

Dark  separation's  ceaseless  pain, 
Until  thy  smiles  again  I  share, 

Until,  my  own,  we  meet  again. 

We  said  good-bye,  with  lips  that  met, 
In  one  long  kiss  of  lingering  bliss  ; 

How  often  since  when  last  we  met 
I've  lived  again  that  rapturous  kiss. 

There  is  no  hour  when  thou  art  not 
Beside  me,  in  sweet  Fancy's  dream  ; 

No  word  of  thine  can  he  forgot, — 
Of  Hope,  thou  art  my  only  gleam. 

The  Past,  for  both,  has  known  its  pain, 

But  in  the  Future  there  must  be 
All  Joy,  all  Life,  all  Hope  ;  and  fain 

My  heart  would  these  be  unto  thee. 

Then  why  should  separation  make 

Sad  hours  ?     I  know  that  we  shall  meet, 

And  for  thy  love, — thy  dear  love's  sake, 
Thy  gentle  arms  shall  clasp  me,  sweet  ! 


MISJUDGED. 

HOW    oft    the    world   will    wrongly    scan    each 
action, 

With  busy  eye,  malignant  and  severe, 
And  prove,  unto  its  own  sweet  satisfaction, 
That  right  is  wrong,  by  argument  most  clear  ! 

The  fairest  flower  for  a  weed  is  taken, 

The  breath  of  slander  blights  a  heart  most  true; 

And  e'en  a  life  that  strives  all  good  to  waken 
How  many  round  us  ever  misconstrue  ! 

Oh,  heed  the  precept  of  divine  affection  : 
Judge  not!  ye  ne'er  can  know  another's  heart  ; 

The  secret  springs  of  life  are  past  inspection; 
Only  to  self  can  self  its  aims  impart. 

Thy  brother  and  thy  sister  speak  of  kindly, 
While  o'er  the  rugged  road  of  life  ye  plod; 

Ah,  judge  them  not,  all  partially  and  blindly; 
Watch  well  thyself,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God. 


70 


SUFFER  LITTLE  CHILDREN. 

WE  yield  them  up  with  anguished  hearts, 
With  weary,  weeping  eyes; 
We  gaze  within  the  narrow  graves, 

The  gates  of  Paradise. 
But  heart,  there  softly  comes  to  thee, 
"  Suffer  them  now  to  come  to  me." 

Oh,  blessed  balm  for  motherhood, 
What  storms  can  harm  them  now  ? 

They  sing  the  Saviour's  endless  praise, 
While  sadly  here  we  bow, 

God's  jewels,  in  His  crown  to  be, 

"  Forbid  not,  let  them  come  to  me." 

Take  up  the  burden  of  thy  cross 

For  unto  thee  'tis  given 
To  render  thy  sad  earthly  life 

More  meet  for  yonder  heaven. 
Dear  Christ,  Thy  goodness  now  we  see 
"  Suffer  thou  them  to  come  to  me  !  " 


SUNLIGHT  FOR  WORKINGMEN. 

WHEN  the  sun  rises  golden  to  bring  us  the 
day, 

Awakening  all  who  are  plodding  life's  way, 
What  myriads  then  to  their  labor  must  throng, 
With  a  frown  or  a  sigh,  or  a  smile  and  a  song. 

There  are  many  lives  weary  and  worn  with  their 

toil, 

The  tenders  of  ships  and  the  tillers  of  soil; 
What  beautiful  thoughts  of  theirs'  crowded  away 
In  the  dull  round  of  routine  that  shadows  the  day. 

How  many  with  minds  of  ambition  rejoice 

In  the  task  and  the  toil  of  their  option  and  choice; 

How  many  are  giving  their  labor  for  all, 

With  hearts  still  responding  to  mercy's  loud  call. 

Then  how  many  are  searching  for  pleasures  to-day, 
In  Fashion's  great  world  all  resplendent  and  gay; 
But  the  nymph  glideth  by,  oft  refusing  the  call, 
Her  flatteries  never  were  destined  for  all. 

All  in  vain  is  the  search  over  land,  over  sea, 
In  the  midst  of  the  garlands  of  pleasure  and  glee, 
For  the  heart  its  true  happiness  never  can  find 
While  selfishness  rules  the  domain  of  the  mind. 
72 


Sunlight  For  Workingmen.  7 3 

Oh,  the  time  has  gone  by  to  grind  earthward  the 

poor, 

They  have  trials  and  troubles  enough  to  endure; 
We're  living  and  breathing  in  more  hopeful  days, 
And  life  has  a  vastly  more  generous  phase. 

Oh,  the  sweet  loving  children  who  gather  around, 
The   bright   golden    links   of    our   home,   rapture- 
crowned! 

What  glory  of  sunlight  their  clear  laughter  brings, 
And  how  long  in  the  heart-core  its  melody  rings. 

They  have  hopes  that  are  greater  than  those  in  far 

lands, 
While   here   they   are   reared   by   kind,  toil-faring 

hands; 

The  highest  of  places  awaits  for  them  here, 
As  they  strive  after  wisdom,  from  year  unto  year. 

Oh,  toil-wearied  brothers,  take  courage  to-day  ; 
The  clouds  that  o'erhang  you  will  soon  fade  away  ; 
The  sunlight  is  coming,  to  cheer  you,  at  last, 
The  strife  and  the  bitterness  soon  will  be  past. 

The  fiat  goes  forth,  by  the  might  of  your  hands 
The  vistas  of  progress  opes  now  through  the  lands; 
Yield  not  in  the  conflict,  let  none  give  up  heart, 
Your  own  conscience  dictates  the  bold,  hero  part. 


74  Springtime  Voices. 

Prosperity's  banner  will  over  you  wave, — 
Your  homes  and  your  firesides  from  misery  save; 
A  blessing,  all  equal,  and  sunlight  sublime, 
Shall    fall    on    the   workingman,    fadeless    through 
time. 


SPRINGTIME  VOICES. 

DO  you  know,  O,  happy  bluebirds, 
That  I've  guessed  your  silver  song? 
That  I  read  the  loving  message 

Of  your  hearts,  so  blithe  and  strong  ? 
On  your  tiny  wings  of  turquois, 
Flashing  by,  you  carol  clear  : 
"  'Tis  the  Giver  of  the  Springtime 
Who  has  sent  us  earth  to  cheer. ' ' 

I  can  hear  it  in  the  brooklet 

That  is  laughing  down  the  lea, 
Like  a  merry  little  baby 

From  its  cradle-bed  set  free. 
And  the  crocus  and  the  daisy, 

Lighting  up  the  fields  so  drear, 
Praise  the  giver  of  the  Springtime 

Who  has  sent  them  earth  to  cheer. 

There's  a  murmur  from  the  woodland, 
And  I  know  its  meaning  well  ; 


At  the  Fair.  75 

For  the  tender  buds  are  growing, — 

Trees  the  gentle  message  tell. 
In  the  pale  green  of  the  grass-blades, 

In  the  warmer  winds,  I  hear  : 
"  Bless  the  Giver  of  the  Springtime 

Who  has  sent  us  earth  to  cheer." 

Oh,  the  joy  to  read  that  message, 

With  its  wondrous  grace  and  charm, 
In  the  sky,  soft  bending  o'er  us, 

Like  a  mother's  loving  arm. 
And  my  happy  heart  is  singing, 

With  the  bluebirds,  blithe  and  clear  ; 
"  Thank  the  Giver  of  the  Springtime 

For  his  days  of  hope  and  cheer." 


AT  THE  FAIR. 

OH  fair  White  City  of  the  West ! 
Oh,  happy  day  and  thought, 
That  led  us  on  our  raptured  quest 
To  see  earth's  wonders  wrought  ! 

The  eyes  are  dazzled  with  the  sheen 

Of  beauty  past  compare  ; 
Oh,  could  my  pen  describe  the  scene 

That  met  my  vision  there  ! 


76  At  the  Fair. 

Oh,  could  my  lips  in  words  portray 

The  majesty  of  grace, 
The  ever  varied,  grand  display, 

As  vistas  there  we  trace  ! 

There  Eastern  worlds  and  Northern  zones,- 
South,  West,  each  other  greet, 

In  grandest  unison  of  tones, 
To  make  a  world  complete. 

Jewels  and  gems  of  richest  hue, 
And  worth  a  monarch's  throne, 

Were  there  presented  to  our  view  ; 
But  jewels  not  alone, — 

The  jewels  of  all  industries, 

(The  progress  of  the  world) 
As  countless  as  the  waves  of  seas, 

We  there  beheld  impearled. 

Whatever  mind  of  man  designed, 
Whatever  womankind  has  wrought, 

Yon  fair  White  City  hath  enshrined — 
Rich  gems  of  hand  and  thought. 

The  grand  old  masters  we  beheld, 

In  Art's  sublime  domain  ; 
We  gazed  in  wonder,  awe-compelled, 

'Neath  Painting's  hallowed  fane. 


At  the  Fair.  77 

There  Sculpture,  genius-crowned  appeared, 

In  all  its  majesty  ; 
By  time's  own  mighty  hand  endeared 

Through  ages  yet  to  be. 

Oh,  mighty  wheel,  with  ceaseless  whirl  ! 

Oh,  kindred  of  the  spheres  ! 
As  if  from  space  it  took  its  place, 

A  comet  through  the  years. 

Oh,  towers,  whence  we  looked  below 

Upon  vast  human  throngs  ! 
In  every  heart  fond  pleasure's  glow, 

And  grand  thanksgiving  songs. 

Thanksgiving  songs  that  all  the  earth 

Should  there  in  friendship  meet, 
And,  hand  in  hand,  from  every  land 

America  should  greet. 

Lo  !   as  we  gazed  upon  that  throng, 

From  dazzling  heights  above, 
Equality  was  still  our  song, 

And  Unity  and  Love. 

Queen  City  of  the  West,  'tis  thine 

To  call  from  every  land 
Its  throngs,  to  worship  at  the  shrine 

Of  Freedom  proud  and  grand. 


7 8  Autumn  Days. 

Thy  pageant  lingers  in  our  dreams, 

Shall  live  forevermore. 
Thy  fair  White  City  fondly  beams 

Our  dazzled  gaze  before. 

The  tributes  of  the  world  to-day 

Are  showered  at  thy  feet, 
And  until  time  shall  pass  away, 

The  ages  thee  shall  greet. 

One  truth  immortal  gleams  more  bright 
Than  countless  treasures  there, — 

'Tis  this,  that  Liberty  and  Light 
And  Freedom  crown  the  fair. 


AUTUMN  DAYS. 

A  VOICE  from  far-off  hills 
Of  sunlit  amethyst; 
The  lisp  of  flashing  rills 

By  morning's  ruby  kissed; 
The  purple,  garnet,  gold, 

Of  crisp  leaves  on  the  tree; — 
All  things  now  say  : 
' '  Where  does  she  stray  ? 
Sweet  summer,  where  is  she  ? " 


Autumn  Days.  79 

Bright  flowers  that  gemmed  her  throne 

Fall  from  their  settings  fair; 
The  wind's  sad  monotone 

Voices  the  Year's  despair. 
Swift  birds  that  follow  her 
Have  lost  their  warbled  glee; 

With  smile  so  gay, 

Where  does  she  stay  ? 
Sweet  Summer,  where  is  she  ? 

Her  voice  lives  in  our  dreams; 

Her  memories  are  bright, 
Long  treasured  are  her  gleams, — 

Her  visions  of  delight. 
What  though  the  dead  leaves  hide 
Her  steps  on  lawn  and  lea  ? 

The  heart  shall  say 

For  many  a  day: 
"  Sweet  Summer,  where  is  she?  " 


MUSING  UPON  THE  DEATH  OF  A 
BELOVED  SON. 

i. 

DEAR  little  Georgie  gone  ? 
No  more  to  come. 
First  thoughts  at  break  of  dawn 
In  this  our  home. 

II. 

No  matter  where  we  are 

His  face  we  see — 
Like  a  clear  heavenly  star 

He  seems  to  be. 

III. 

For  one  sweet  kiss  from  him 

My  life  I'd  give, 
For  one  more  look  at  him 

No  longer  live. 

IV. 

Oh,  he  was  bound  to  me 

By  chords  divine, 
Strong  as  eternity, 

That  boy  of  mine. 

80 


Musing  Lpon  the  Death  of  a  Beloved  Son.     8 1 

v. 

Him,  I  can  ne'er  forget, 

Though  years  should  roll 
E'en  till  life's  sun  is  set, 

Twined  to  my  soul. 

VI. 

Dear  Jesus  thou  alone 

Canst  give  me  peace, 
Thy  promises  atone, 

And  grant  release. 

VII. 

In  Thee  my  trust  is  stayed, 

Be  this  my  joy, 
When  earthly  joys  shall  fade 

I'll  meet  my  boy. 


JESUS  ONLY. 

JESUS  only  !     Jesus  only  ! 
Thou  art  all  the  world  to  me  ! 
Fold  me  in  thine  arms  of  mercy, 
Let  me,  trusting  lean  on  Thee  ! 

Jesus  only  !     Jesus  only  ! 

Keep  temptation  from  my  way, 
I  am  weak  but  Thou  art  mighty; 

Be  my  rock,  my  staff,  my  stay. 

Jesus  only  !     Jesus  only  ! 

Hide  from  me  all  doubts  and  fears, 
Heal  my  wounded,  fainting  spirit, 

Dry  my  sad  and  weary  tears. 

Jesus  only  !     Jesus  only  ! 

This  my  safeguard  ever  be  ; 
Trusting  in  Thy  tender  kindness, 

Saviour,  shield  and  shelter  me  ! 

Jesus  only  !     Jesus  only  ! 

Be  Thou  near  in  life,  in  death. 
I  would  praise  Thee,  Jesus,  only, — 

Love  Thee  with  my  dying  breath  ! 


82 


AFTER  DARK. 

HOW  wondrously  sweet  is  the  light  of  day, 
So  clear  and  so  sunny  and  fair  ; 
It  scatters  the  gloomiest  visions  away, 
And  breaketh  the  chains  of  despair. 

When  darkness  has  folded  his  mantle  around, 
How  often  temptations  lurk  near  ; 

The  vilest  and  crudest  deeds  oft  abound 
To  bring  the  heart  many  a  tear. 

The  city,  uncovered,  at  low  tide  is  then. 
The  poisonous  air  reeks  with  sin  ; 

In  many  a  hidden  and  horrible  den 
The  reign  of  King  Vice  will  begin. 

The  chance-made  acquaintance  upon  the  street 

Means  danger  and  misery  near  ; 
The  flattering  smiles  that  may  artfully  greet 

Should  fill  all  who  see  them  with  fear. 

They  mean  but  a  free  pass  to  horrible  death 
On  sin's  whirling  lightning  express  ; 

Each  station  you  pass,  till  life's  weariest  breath, 
Your  honor  each  hour  growing  less. 
83 


84  After  Dark. 

Oh,  youth  that  safely  at  home  should  keep  ! 

Nor  roam  through  the  darkness,  at  will  ; 
'Tis  heaven  ordained  you  these  hours  for  sleep, 

In  quietude  far  from  all  ill. 

My  heart  now  goes  out  to  you,  earnest  young  boys, 
'Twould  shield  you  from  every  snare. 

I  watch  you,  full  oft,  in  your  innocent  joys, 
So  far  from  the  shadows  of  care. 

I'd  turn  you  forever  from  danger  and  woe, 
From  dark  paths  of  sorrow  and  sin  ; 

And  onward  and  upward  I'd  still  bid  you  go 
The  highest  of  honors  to  win. 

As  still  you  press  bravely  to  manhood's  fair  years, 

Though  temptations  hover  around, 
May  parents  of  yours  never  cause  have  for  tears  ; — 

Their  love, — be  with  thee  ever  bound. 

Let  home  be  a  sacred  and  soul-hallowed  spot, 

The  shelter  from  sin  and  from  care  ; 
With  loved  ones  anear  that  shall  ne'er  be  forgot, 

Thrice  blest,  with  affection  and  prayer. 

And,  when  life,  with  all  that  so  puzzles  us  here, 

Shall  soar  to  its  rest,  as  the  lark, 
Oh,  may  the  fair  dawning  be  radiant  and  clear 

To  greet  every  soul, — after  dark  ! 


WHERE  THE  WEARY  ARE  AT  REST. 

WHILE   the   purple  shadows   deepen  'round 
my  life  so  sad  and  lone, 
And  the  cruel  winds  are  beating  o'er  my  path  so 

dreary  grown, 
I  can  hear  a  sweet  voice  calling,  saying:     "Cheer 

up  !  bear  the  test, 

And  thou'  It  wear  a  crown  of  glory  where  the  weary 
are  at  rest  !  " 

Then  begone  all  storm  and  darkness  ! — then  away 

all  idle  fears  ! 
I  am  going  to  a  city  where  there  are   no  parting 

tears. 
He  is  waiting  there  to  greet  me, — the  dear  one  I 

love  the  best,— 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

May  my  footsteps  never  falter,  as  I  journey  day  by 

day, 
Till  I  gain  the  golden  portals  whence  all  shadows 

fly  away. 
Oh,  the  mansions  of  the  Father,  in  those  regions 

of  the  blest, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,   and  the 

weary  are  at  rest  ! 

85 


86  The  Farmer1  s  Christmas  Gift. 

Thus,  while  purple  shadows  deepen,  oft  I  dream  of 

realms  afar, 
And  a  little  face  shines  on  me,  bright  as  evening's 

early  star. 
All  my  soul  to  go  is  longing,  as  a  bird  longs  for  its 

nest, 
Up  to  yonder  land  eternal,  where  the  weary  are  at 

rest. 


T 


THE  FARMER'S  CHRISTMAS  GIFT. 

(BALLAD.) 

HE  silver  sound  of  sleigh  bells  tinkled,  tinkled 

on  the  air; 
The  farmer  sat  beside  the  fire,  his    hale,  old  wife 

was  there. 
He  looked  upon  the  ruddy  logs,  and  dreamed  of 

days  agone, — 

Of  happy  Christmas  eves  of  old  when  smiles  upon 
him  shone. 

"Ah,   wife,"   at   last,   he   softly   said,  "in   yonder 

blaze  I  see 
The  face  of  one  who  long  ago  was  lost  to  you  and 

me. 
Of  one  who   left   the  dear  old    farm,  and  left  her 

parents'  side; 
Far  better  had  it  been  for  her   if    early    she    had 

died." 


The  Farmer  s  Christmas  Gift.  87 

The  weeping,  trembling,  poor  old  wife  spake  con 
solation  sweet, 

And  silent  tears  coursed  down  their  cheeks,  while 
fell  the  snow  and  sleet; 

The  red  logs  crackled  on  the  hearth,  and  seemed  to 
whisper  there 

A  message  full  of  comfort  to  the  bowed  and  wrinkled 
pair. 

The  farmer  sees  a  happy  child  that  whispers  sweet 

good-night, 
He   holds    her   to  his  bosom  with  a   father's  fond 

delight; 
Her  stocking,  in  the  chimney  nook,  is  hung  with 

childish  glee; 
'Tis  Christinas  Eve,  and  off  to  bed  she  scampers 

merrily. 

Again,  he  sees  a  youthful  pair  who  ask  his  blessing 

dear; 
He  speaks  in  anger,  and  his  child  departs  in  pride 

and  fear. 
A  match,  not  of  his  seeking,  calls  a  curse  from  out 

those  lips, 
And   life  upon  that  lonely  farm  then  sinks  to  dark 

eclipse. 

Alas  !  the  anger  long  since  died  that  made  his  days 

so  drear; 
"  Oh,  give  me  back  my  darling  child  !  "  he  cried, 

while  fell  the  tear; 


88  The  Farmer1  s  Christmas  Gift. 

' '  How  could  I  thrust  her  from  my  heart  ?     Where 

lingers  she  to-night  ? 
Perhaps   in  want,   amid   the  city's   far-off  sin   and 

blight." 

Again    that  silver  sound    of  sleigh    bells.      Hark  ! 

no  more  'tis  heard  ! 
Then  footsteps  coming  to  the  porch,  with  just  one 

joyful  word. 
That   word  was    "Home!"     The  farmer  and  his 

wife  are  at  the  door, — 
It   opens,   all   their  happiness   to  give  them   back 

once  more. 

The  flame  leaps  brighter  on  the  hearth  as  if  with 

hearty  glee. 
"Thank  God,   my  darling  daughter,   he  has  sent 

you  back  to  me  ! 
Your  husband  ?     Oh,  forgive  the  words  I  spoke  so 

long  ago  ! 
'Twas  ill  to  speak  so  harshly,  and  repentance  came 

not  slow. 

' '  The  merriest  of  Christmas  Eves  for  many  a  year 
is  mine. 

Ah  !  dear  old  wife,  your  eyes  with  sweetest  happi 
ness  may  shine  ! 

The  wind  without  may  fiercely  blow,  the  snow  may 
wildly  drift, 

But  what  care  we,  for  God  has  sent  to  us  our 
Christmas  gift." 


TO  THE  SUN. 

OH,  dawning-  sun,  how  beautiful, 
How  wondrous  are  thy  beams  ! 
All  nature  sinks  to  welcome  thee, 
A  Paradise  earth  seem?. 

When  I  behold  thy  quickening  power, 
And  comprehend  thy  worth, 

I  gaze  upon  thy  rays  with  awe, 
And  hushed  is  joy  and  mirth. 

Ah  !  well  I  know  how  weak  we  are, — 
God's  children  here  below  ; 

But  thou  hast  gifts  for  everyone 
In  thy  awakening  glow. 

How  infinite  thy  matchless  strength, 

How  glorious  thy  power  ; 
God's  poem  written  in  the  sky 

At  dawn,  at  twilight  hour. 

Thy  golden,  purple,  crimson  hues, 

At  sunset,  seem  to  be 
The  pathway  leading  out  of  Time 

To  blest  Eternity. 


PARTED. 

WHERE  shall  our  next  meeting  be ? 
On  the  land,  or  on  the  sea  ? 
Forest,  meadow,  hill  or  grove; 
Which  shall  view  our  kiss  of  love  ? 

Some  day,  after  all  our  pain, 
I  must  clasp  thee  once  again  ; 
Some  day,  whether  far  or  near, 
I  shall  see  that  face  so  dear . 

Mutual  faith  and  trust  can  bridge 
Over  Time's  tempestuous  ridge  ; 
Whether  lives  be  rich  or  poor, 
Truest  love  will  e'er  endure. 

Hasten  !  kiss  my  lips  once  more, 
As  thou  didst  in  days  of  yore  ! 
Fold  me  in  those  arms  again  ! 
Must  my  longing  be  in  vain  ? 

Heart  of  mine,  wait  patiently 
Till  thy  loved  shall  come  to  thee  ; 
Trusting,  watching,  waiting,  now, 
With  Hope's  star  upon  thy  brow. 
90 


Decoration  Day.  91 

Joys  of  life  I  may  possess, 
And  with  treasures  Time  may  bless, — 
Still  life's  void  can  not  be  filled, 
Till  my  longing  heart  be  stilled. 

With  thy  presence,  pure  and  sweet, 
Which  my  spirit  longs  to  greet, 
Answer,  "some  day  I  shall  come 
Never  from  thy  side  to  roam." 


DECORATION  DAY. 

(1891.) 

A   NOTHER  year  has  rolled  around, 
i\     And  brought  its  gift  of  flowers 
To  lay  above  each  honored  mound 
Of  these  dear  dead  of  ours. 

Another  year — a  thousand  years 

Can  lessen  not  the  love 
That  watches  o'er  these  graves  with  tears, 

As  angels  watch  above  ! 

Another  year  has  borne  away 

Two  gallant  hearts  and  bold; 
Their  deathless  names,  in  proud  array, 

See  !  on  Fame's  page  enscrolled. 


92  Decoratian  Day. 

Our  gallant  Porter,  pure  as  dew 

In  knightly  loyalty  ; 
Our  hero,  Sherman,  spotless,  true, 

Has  halted  at  the  Sea. 

These  join  the  ranks  of  noble  dead 
Whose  graves  to  us  are  dear; 

Be  sweetest  bloom  above  them  spread 
With  each  returning  year. 

O,  young  hearts,  keep  with  faithful  trust 

The  memory  of  our  brave  ! 
O,  nation,  honor  still  the  dust 

Of  those  who  died  to  save  ! 

Bring   flowers — the  red,  the  white,  the  blue, 

To  tell  in  language  plain 
They  gave  not  up  those  lives  so  true 

Nor  fought  nor  bled  in  vain. 

Comrades  in  many  a  storied  fray, 

Tread  softly  where  they  lie  ; 
Their  love  is  in  all  hearts  to-day, 

Their  fame  shall  never  die. 


"REMEMBER  ME  !" 

REMEMBER   me!"  sweetly    it  fell  from  thy 
lips  ; 

Again  I  can  hear  it,  though  death's  dark  eclipse 
Has  hidden  thy  face  from  mortality's  view, 
Oh,  friend  ever  loving  and  gentle  and  true  ! 

"  I  would  not  live  alway,"  I  hear  thee  still  say, 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way  ! 
Now  gone  is  the  tempest  for  thee  evermore, 
And    calm    is    thine  home,  on  yon  peace-hallowed 
shore. 

How  strangely  those  words  now  awake  in  the  heart; 
They  seem  of  thy  spirit  and  being  a  part: 
I  can  not  forget  them,  they  bring  to  me,  now, 
Thy  dear  patient  face,  and  thy  smile-lighted  brow. 

Not  here  to  live  alway  ! — but,  in  God's  bright  land, 
To  sing  with  the  angels  in  harmony  grand  ! 
Thou  still  art  remembered,  dear  heart,  till  we  meet, 
For  friendship  clasps  ever  thy  memory  sweet. 


93 


A  CITY  INCIDENT. 

NIGHT  o'er' the  city,  dark  and  chill; 
The  winds  go  shrieking  by, 
Like  demons,  bent  on  direst  ill, 

They  toss  the  snow-drifts  high. 
The  weary  toiler's  work  is  o'er, 
And  on,  with  hastening  feet, 
He  seeks  his  welcome  home  once  more 
His  loved  ones  there  to  greet. 

But  louder  than  the  raging  blast 

Those  sounds  of  wildest  din, 
From  where  yon  lurid  light  is  cast, — 

The  haunts  of  woe  and  sin. 
And  fiercer  than  the  storm  without, 

The  raging  passions  there, — 
The  curses  deep,  the  maniac  shout, 

That  herald  dark  despair. 

"  Fill  high  the  bowl  !  drink  deep  to-night .' ' 

Cries  one,  ' '  away  with  thought ! ' ' 
See  how  the  liquor  sparkles  bright, 

It  brings  the  joys  we  sought. 
Again  the  maudlin  laugh  rings  on; 

The  glasses  gaily  clink; 
A  siren's  tune  to  lure  each  one 

Towards  Ruin's  yawning  brink. 

94 


A  City  Incident.  95 

What  unseen  specters  hover  there, 

Above  that  flame-fed  crowd; 
A  dying-  mother,  and  her  prayer, 

A  father,  sorrow-bowed. 
A  wife  and  children,  crouched  in  fear, 

While  blows  are  falling  fast; 
The  shadow  of  a  gallows  near, 

A  pauper's  grave,  at  last. 

Still  howls  the  storm;  the  lights  descend; 

The  revelers  depart; 
What  is  it,  ere  his  footsteps  wend, 

One  clasps  unto  his  heart? 
A  little  bundle,  snowy  white, 

That  lies  beside  the  door: 
"Oh  God  !  my  child  !  "  in  wild  affright 

A  father  mutters  o'er. 

"  I  came  to  bring  you  home,  papa, 

But  I  was  turned  away; 
And  I  have  walked  so  very  far, 

I  thought  for  you  I'd  stay. 
I'm  glad  you're  here;  I  feel  such  pain:  " 

No  more  those  white  lips  said; 
The  father  kissed  his  child  again, 

The  little  one  was  dead. 

"  Speak  !  Speak  !   my  darling,  speak  to  me  ! 

Oh,  wretched  fool  was  I  ! 
The  cause  of  all  this  misery — 

I  led  you  here  to  die." 


g6  A  Kiss  in  Dreams. 

Out  of  the  heartless,  maudlin  crowd, 
He  hastened  with  his  child, 

And  o'er  the  icy  burden  bowed 
In  grief  and  anguish  wild. 


Oh,  myriad  voices  of  despair  ! 

Oh,  hearts  that  broken  lie  ! 
Oh,  souls  oppressed  with  endless  care  ! 

The  curse  of  Drink  must  die. 
By  all  on  earth  we  love  the  best, 

We'll  work,  heart,  soul  and  hand, 
With  energy  that  knows  no  rest, 

To  sweep  Rum  from  our  land  ! 


A  KISS  IN  DREAMS. 

OH,  rapturous  gladness  and  exquisite  bliss  ! 
What  hope  o'er  my  way  fondly  beams; 
A  world  of  affection  may  dwell  in  a  kiss, — 
You  kissed  me  last  night  in  my  dreams. 

Blest  moment  supreme,  and  a  foretaste  of  Heaven  ! 

Your  spirit  was  hovering  near, 
No  greater  delight  unto  mortals  is  given 

Than  shone  in  your  glances  so  dear. 


Christmas.  97 

The  shadows  and  storms  of  my  life  passed  away, 

I  lived  in  the  days  that  had  flown; 
Sweet  love  o'er  my  being  held  infinite  sway, 

And  once  again  you  were  my  own. 

I  woke  from  my  vision,  beholding  you  gone, 

And  dull  grew  life's  radiant  beams; 
Oh,  darling,  in  twilight  or  midnight  or  dawn, 

Come,  kiss  me  again  in  my  dreams  ! 


CHRISTMAS. 

**'".' 

CHIME  on,  oh,  merry  Christmas  bells  ! 
Your  tuneful,  glad  accord, 
With  sweetest  music,  softly  tells 

Of  Christ,  our  risen  Lord. 
When  we  recall  that  lowly  birth, 

In  cradled  manger  lone, 
We  wonder  not  at  praise  and  mirth, 
All  hail,  thou  sacred  morn  ! 

For  since  thy  dawn  "  Peace  and  good  will  " 

On  earth  have  been  impearled, 
For  those  believing,  He  is  still 

The  Saviour  of  the  world. 
Then  ring  out,  bells  !     Your  silver  song 

Soothes  many  a  weary  way; 
Glorias  and  anthems  well  belong 

To  thee,  glad  Christmas  day  ! 


98  Christmas. 

Venite  Adoremus  sing 
With  glad  acclaim  to-day  ! 

Let  hallelujahs  loudly  ring 
This  hallowed  Christmas  day. 

And,  while  the  carol  riseth  now, 
In  praise  of  His  dear  name, 

Our  hearts  in  adoration  bow- 
Since  He  our  King  became. 

Oh,  children,  what  a  morn  to  you, 

As  trouping  down  the  stairs, 
With  eyes  of  hope,  like  sparkling  dew, 

Ye  charm  away  our  cares. 
But  those  whose  arms  are  empty  now, 

How  wearisome  life's  hours  ! 
While  on  this  once  glad  day  ye  bow 

Over  a  grave's  dead  flowers. 

Oh,  folded  hands  and  loving  eyes 

Safe  in  that  upper  fold  ! — 
Rejoicing  in  yon  paradise, 

In  streets  of  shining  gold. 
Your  sweet  good-by  we'll  ne'er  forget; 

Ye  lead  us  all  the  way; 
For  promised  hope  abideth  yet 

On  this  dear  Christmas  day. 

Oh,  may  we  ever  look  above 
To  yonder  white-robed  choir  ! 

May  we,  by  their  dear,  sacred  love, 
Be  guided  on  still  higher. 


Carol,  Children,  Carol!  99 

Hosannas  in  excelsis  sing  ! 

Bring  offerings  glad  to-day, 
For  unto  Him,  our  chosen  King, 

We  chant  our  Christmas  lay. 


CAROL,   CHILDREN,   CAROL  ! 


on  this  blessed  morn 
How  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  born, 
In  the  manger  all  forlorn. 

Carol,  children,  carol  ! 

CHORUS. 

Hark  !  the  angels'  song  again 

Sounding  over  hill  and  glen: 

'  '  Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men  !  '  ' 

Carol,   children,  carol  ! 

Carol  how  the  star,  so  bright, 

Led  the  wise  men  through  the  night, 

To  the  Babe,  —  oh,  wondrous  sight  ! 

Carol,  children,  carol  ! 

Carol  how  upon  the  plain 

Shepherds  heard  the  heav'nly  strain,  — 

Never  shall  its  glory  wane. 

Carol,  children,  carol  ! 


ioo  Golden  Links. 

Carol,  carol,  far  and  near, 
Glory  to  our  Saviour  dear  ! 
On  this  morn  of  all  the  year, — 

Carol,  children,  carol 


GOLDEN  LINKS. 

OH,  the  golden  link  that  binds  me 
To  yonder  home  so  blest, 
Where  my  darling  one  is  waiting 
To  welcome  me  to  rest  ! 

He  is  waiting  with  the  Saviour, 
And,  when  my  toil's  complete, 

He  is  the  link  that  holds  me, — 
A  gem  at  Jesus'  feet. 

Oh,  the  past,  the  present,  future, 

Have  radiance  untold, 
While  that  bright  link  still  binds  me 

To  streets  of  precious  gold  ! 

Let  me  hallow  this,  God's  token, 
Through  life  my  endless  joy, — 

This  link  'twixt  me  and  Heaven, — 
My  darling,  angel  boy  ! 


MIDWINTER   WOODS. 

A  CAVE  where  wizard  Winter  dwells, — 
These  dim,  white  solitudes  o'erhung 
With  weird  stalactites,  in  wide  cells, 

High  vaulted.     Where  sweet  birds  have  sung, 
No  sound  is  heard  but  the   gride   of    wind-swept 

boughs  above,  below, 

And  the  snap  of  icicles  that  shrill  along  the  crusted 
snow, 

In  these  midwinter  woods. 

Naught  here  betokens  life,  save  prints, 

Soft  tinted,  of  the  rabbit's  tread; 
No  whisper,  in  the  air,  that  hints 

Of  milder  hours.     The  brooklet's  bed 
That   winds,   a    silver    snake,   is    lost    in    distant, 

billowy  drifts, 

And  not  one  golden  ray  glints  through  the  cheer 
less,  blackened  rifts 

Of  these  midwinter  woods. 

O,  ashen  sky  that  bodes  full  long 

But  dearth  and  storm  and  dreary  days  ! 

But  hark  !  a  chicadee's  blithe  song, 

Like  smitten  silver,  haunts  these  ways  ! 
101 


IO2         Down  Where  the  Mohawk  Glideth. 

O,  bird  of  clearer  faith  than  mine,  and  keener  eyes 

to  see, 
Beneath  the   mantle   of    the   snow,    the   blossoms 

soon  to  be 

In  these  midwinter  woods. 


DOWN  WHERE  THE  MOHAWK  GLIDETH. 

DOWN  where  the  Mohawk  glideth 
To  meet  the  deep  blue  sea, 
A  maiden  dwells,  'mid  lily  bells, 

And  she  is  all  this  world  to  me. 
Her  dark  blue  eyes  are  beaming 

With  lovelight  all  the  day; 

And  oh  !  her  words,  like  songs  of  meadow  birds 
Make  sweet  life's  weary  way  ! 

Her  step  is  gentle  as  the  rippling  stream. 

Her  smile  is  lovely  as  the  starry  beam. 

There  she  waits  me  just  as  the  daylight  is  fading  to 

eve; 
Sweetest  darling,  eyes  so  entrancing  and  roguishly 

glancing 
While   loving   dreams   the  glad  moments  ever  so 

gracefully  weave 

Down  where  the  stream  flows  like  a  dream 
Through  the  Mohawk's  vale  ! 


Down  Where  the  Mohawk  Glide th.         103 

Down  where  the  Mohawk  glideth 

So  peacefully  along, 

And  to  the  flowers  in  golden  hours, 

Repeats  its  glad  and  tuneful  song. 

I  told  love's  tender  story 

Forever  fond  and  true, 

And  sweet  the  smile  beamed  on  me  all  the  while 

From  out  her  eyes  of  blue. 

Down  where  the  Mohawk  glideth 

I  won  her  loving  heart  ! 
And  from  her  side,  whate'er  betide, 

I  never  shall  in  life  depart. 
Our  home  will  be  all  sunshine 

Each  dawn  with  love  we'll  hail  ; 
And  rapture  fair  shall  ever  bless  us  there 

In  our  sweet  Mohawk  vale. 


w 


DREAMS. 

i. 
HAT  dreams,  by  night,  my  fancies  weave, 


When  sleep  o'ertakes  mine  eyes  ! 
Oh,  do  they  come  to  cheer  or  grieve  ? 
Come  they  from  earth  or  skies  ? 

How  oft  I  see  those  whom  I  knew 

In  school  days,  long  ago, 
What  forms  that  now  are  hid  from  view, 

Resting  from  storms  and  woe. 

Can  it  be  true  they  come  again 

To  bless  and  aid  us  here  ? 
To  bid  us  fly  from  sin  and  pain, 

To  banish  haunting  fear  ? 

To  tell  us  that  earth  is  not  all, 

That  there's  another  life  ! 
Oh,  listen  to  the  tones  that  fall 

To  calm  our  daily  strife  ! 

I  can  not  fathom  all  my  dreams; 

But  this  I  feel  and  know: 
The  soul  still  lives  in  sunlit  gleams 

When  lies  this  body  low. 
104 


Dreams.  105 

II. 

Why  do  I  dream  of  my  loved  boy  so  much, 
From  the  close  of  the  day  till  the  dawn  ? 

Why  do  I  feel  his  dear  hands  as  they  touch, 
And  awake,  but  to  know  he  is  gone  ? 

Why  do  I  rock  him  to  sleep  in  my  chair, 
Pressing  close  to  my  heart  his  dear  head  ? 

Why  do  I  smooth  my  hand  over  his  hair, 
When  they  tell  me  that  Georgie  is  dead  ? 

I  will  not  believe  them,  it  can  not  be  true, 

For  he  lives  in  a  glorious  sphere; 
His  eyes  still  are  beaming  with  Heaven's  own  blue, 

And  he  comes  in  my  dreams  but  to  cheer. 

Soon  I  shall  seek  him,  with  angels  to  sing, 
Where  I'll  press  him  to  my  aching  heart. 

Soon  he  will  come  the  blest  message  to  bring 
That  we  never  in  Heaven  shall  part. 

in. 

In  dreams,  a  hand  beckoned  me  yonder, 
Through  the  clouds,  so  heavenly  fair; 

Three  times  I  saw  it,  and  I  wonder 
What  the  message  it  doth  bear. 

Oh,  am  I  through  with  earthly  sorrow, 
And  through  with  burdens  hard  to  bear  ? 

Doth  it  portend  to  me  no  morrow, 
An  end  to  every  weary  care  ? 


1 06  Dreams. 

'Twould  be  no  cross,  oh,  hand  celestial, 
To  soar  away  where  thou  dost  dwell  ! 

To  leave  this  dwelling  place  terrestrial, 
If  that's  the  message  thou  dost  tell. 

For  there  has  gone  my  heart's  fond  treasure, 
And  here  I'm  striving  to  prepare, 

That  when  this  earthly  life  I  measure 
I  may  obtain  an  entrance  there. 

Yes;  fairest  hopes  of  mine  have  perished; 

And  sered  the  flowers  within  my  heart. 
The  fondest  ties  I  here  have  cherished 

Were  rudely  sundered  wide  apart. 

Dost  herald,  then,  some  new  awaking  ? 

Ethereal  stranger,  to  me  speak  ! 
Explain  the  signs  that  thou  art  making, 

And  whom  it  is  that  thou  dost  seek. 

What  message  hast  thou,  Heavenly  stranger 
That  thou  hast  beckoned  me,  at  night  ? 

Perhaps  thou  warnest  me  of  danger, 
Oh,  mystic  hand  so  weirdly  white  ! 

Oh,  may  I  heed  thy  silent  calling  ! 

My  dearest  hopes  on  Heaven  are  built; 
Sad  heart,  when  deathly  gloom  is  falling, 

Thy  song  be  "  Saviour,  as  Thou  wilt." 


"SHE  IS  MY  QUEEN  ALONE!" 

SHE  is  my  gem,  my  little  treasure, 
Yes  she  is  mine  and  mine  alone  ! 
Her  boundless  love,  oh  who  could  measure  ? 

Who  would  not  worship  at  her  throne  ? 
She  drives  away  all  gloom  and  sorrow, 

And  makes  earth  seem  a  paradise; 
She  grows  more  dear  to  me  each  morrow, 
While  fondly  I  look  in  her  bright  eyes. 

CHORUS: 

She's  mine  !     Yes,  mine  ! 
My  love  will  last  forever  ! 

So  neat,  so  sweet, 
This  little  dimpled  darling  of  my  life. 

We'll  meet,  and  greet, 
And  parted  shall  be  never; 
She  is  my  queen  of  love, 
As  true  as  stars  above, 
And  soon  she  will  be  my  happy  wife. 

Bright  is  her  smile  where  joy  reposes 
Long,  long  ago  I  won  her  heart ; 

Her  cheeks  are  red  as  summer  roses, 
Her  smile  is  far  beyond  all  art. 
107 


io8  A  Rainy  Day. 

I'd  freely  give  the  pearls  of  ocean 
One  gentle  smile  of  hers  to  own; 

She  holds  my  heart's  supreme  devotion, 
My  darling  !     She  is  my  queen  alone. 


A  RAINY  DAY. 

DARK  with  rain  the  clouds  may  be, 
And  a  mist  drape  all  with  gloom; 
Sad  thy  life  may  seem  to  thee, 

O'erpressed  with  sense  of  doom; 
Yet,  beyond  the  clouds  is  light, — 
There  is  sunshine  full  of  cheer  ; 
The  passing  shadows  only  blight 
To  make  God's  sun  more  clear. 

Hopeless  heart,  no  more  repine; 

Let  thy  vision  pierce  the  gloom. 
Joy  and  rest  may  still  be  thine; 

Life's  roses  still  shall  bloom. 
Lift  thy  burdens  once  again, 

With  a  faith  and  trust  secure. 
Beyond  the  shadow  and  the  pain 

His  love  doth  still  endure. 


MUSIC. 

OH,  music,  dear  comrade,  through  many  long 
years, 

As  time  glided  by  you  have  banished  my  fears, 
While  onward  and  upward  you  guide  me  along, 
My  heart  is  o'erflowing  with  jubilant  song. 

Forget  you  ?     Ah,  no  !  you  are  far,  far  too  dear; 
Unto  my  sad  life  you  have  brought  welcome  cheer. 
How  fondly  I  cherish  you,  music,  fair  art, 
You  strike  the  sweet  chords  that  are  deep  in  my 
heart. 

Then  into  my  bosom,  dear  music,  oh,  steal; 
Charm  all  that  is  darksome  in  life,  and  unreal. 
Your  cadences  sing  me,  so  softly  and  low, 
That  tempests  and  sorrows  may  far  from  me  go. 

And  when  the  last  note  shall  be  struck  by  my  hand, 
And  in  earth's  grand  chorus  no  longer  I  stand, 
Oh,  be  it  my  mission  in  Heaven  to  play, 
Before  the  white  throne,  in  angelic  array  ! 


109 


TO  A  RAINBOW. 

THOU  bow  of  promise,  welcome,  bright, 
With  all  thy  vernal  hue, 
With  cheerfulness  we  watch  thy  light 

That  glads  the  year  so  new. 
For  thou  dost  come  in  joyous  May, 

A  promise  to  the  earth 
That  summer  shall  not  long  delay, 
That  gone  is  winter's  dearth. 

I  welcome  thee,  sweet  bow  of  hope 

Shine  o'er  us  evermore. 
Dear  friends,  beyond  our  vision's  scope, 

Thou'rt  fondly  bending  o'er. 
Thou  givest  joy  with  each  bright  ray, 

Each  hue  hath  power  divine; 
How  could  the  heart  e'er  go  astray 

From  promises  of  thine. 

Though  seldom  is  thy  advent  here, 

Thy  loveliness  hath  power 
To  quell  the  sad  and  lonely  fear, 

And  bid  us  hope  each  hour. 
For  know  we  not  God's  promise  sure, 

Through  ages,  is  the  same  ? 
Our  faith  in  Him  must  still  endure, 

For  thou  dost  breathe  His  name. 
no 


LOVELY  JUNE. 

AIR:    "  HOME   AGAIN." 

LOVELY  June  !     Lovely  June  ! 
Sweet  the  hours  you  bring; 
We  long  to  see  your  smiling  face, 

And  hear  your  warblers  sing. 
Your  blushing  rose,  your  lily  fair, 

Have  crowned  our  earth  with  joy; 
And  oh,  our  mem'ries  bright  of  you 
No  winter  can  destroy. 

Lovely  June  !  &c. 

Lovely  June  !     Lovely  June  ! 

Keep  within  our  hearts; 
For  every  charm  that  comes  with  you 

Sweet  happiness  imparts. 
Within  our  grange,  oh,  whisper  sweet 

Your  harmonies  divine  ! 
And  round  each  sister's  gentle  heart 

Your  garlands  still  entwine. 

Lovely  June  !  &c. 


1 1 1 


JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD. 

THE  dewy  morn  was  fair  and  bright, 
That  peaceful  summer's  day; 
The  rising  sun,  with  golden  light, 

Smiled,  beaming,  on  its  way. 
The  birds  were  singing  merrily, 
Sweet  flowers  shed  perfume; 
The  city  seemed  in  peace  to  be, 
None  feared  impending  doom. 

Bedecked  in  wedding  robes,  a  bride 

Before  the  altar  stands; 
The  groom  awaiting,  by  her  side, 

The  priest  to  join  their  hands. 
The  wedding  march  had  just  been  played, 

The  bridal  party  bow; 
A  wreath  of  flowers  now  is  laid 

Upon  her  youthful  brow. 

Another  scene,  not  far  from  there: 

We  mark  a  funeral  shroud ; 
We  list  the  solemn  uttered  prayer 

Ascending  unto  God. 
We  see  the  mourners  drawing  near 

To  take  their  last  farewell; 
When  suddenly  a  cry  we  hear 

Ring  like  a  requiem  knell. 

112 


Johnstown  Flood.  113 

A  horseman,  on  his  steed  of  bay, 

Flies,  shouting,  o'er  the  vale: 
"  Make  haste  !  run  for  your  lives  !  away  !  " 

He  shrieks  with  echoing  wail. 
Madly,  and  with  stupendous  sway, 

Gigantic  in  its  power, 
The  water  swept  both  sad  and  gay, 

The  shroud  and  bridal  bower. 

Deep  horror  filled  the  hearts  of  all  ! 

Gone  was  the  humble  roof; 
Spire,  mansion,  totter  to  their  fall, 

Death  now  stands  not  aloof, 
But  rides  upon  the  current  wild 

To  shatter  and  destroy. 
Oh,  where  has  flown  the  scene  so  mild 

In  homes  of  peace  and  joy  ? 

A  child,  raft-swept  upon  the  wave, 

Now  pleads,  with  pallid  brow: 
"  You  told  me  God  would  always  save, — 

Oh,  mamma,  will  he  now?" 
Another  group,  in  calm  despair, 

Awaiting  death  we  see, 
Kneeling  together,  singing  there: 

"  Nearer  my  God  to  Thee  !  " 

And  thou,  brave  rider  and  thy  steed 

Dead  at  thy  duty's  post  ! 
Thy  life  a  ransom  given  indeed, 

Worthy  the  martyred  host. 


H4  Johnstown  Flood. 

No  truer  heart  had  ever  crossed 
O'er  blood-red  fields  of  fray; 

No  braver  life  was  ever  lost 
Than  thine,  that  fatal  day. 

Ah  !  sweet  to  die  that  we  may  save  ! 

God's  hero  sent  to  earth  ! 
Long  in  our  hearts  shall  live  the  brave 

Enshrined  in  deathless  worth. 
Seek  not  the  ranks  of  war  afar 

For  bravery  alone; 
'Tis  where  the  humble  loyal  are, 

The  silent  and  unknown. 

Oh,  gallant  hero,  sweetly  sleep  ! 

Fearless,  thou  sought  to  save 
Life  from  the  raging  waters  deep. 

Rest,  heart  so  truly  brave  ! 
And  may  the  time  be  very  near 

When  through  that  vale  again 
The  bells  shall  ring  out  peace  and  cheer, 

And  gladness  long  shall  reign. 


SUMMER-TIME. 

OH,  we  are  companions  this  golden  day, — 
The  birds  and  the  bees  and  the  soft  blue  sky, 
The  lilies,  the  brook  with  its  roundelay, 

The  rocks  and  the  grass,  the  leaves  and  I. 
I  live  in  their  gladness;  and,  hour  by  hour, 
We  speak  to  each  other  a  language  sweet. 
Ah  !  could  I  unfold 
The  joy  is  told, 

What  rapture  of  song  would  my  lips  repeat 

Of  summer-time  ! 

Deep-aureoled  sunset, — the  birds  wing  home 

With  new,  garnered  joy  for  to-morrow's  praise; 
The  sky  gathers  orbs  in  its  purple  dome; 

The  brook  to  the  sea  bears  pleasant  lays; 
The  bees   have   their   largess,  each    flower-cup    its 

pearl ; 

And  I,  as  I  wander  my  path  along, 
Take  with  me  away 
New  joy  to-day, — 
New  life, — and  this  breath  of  an  idle  song 

Of  summer-time  ! 


THE  MISSION  OF  FLOWERS. 

OH,  the  beautiful  mission  of  flowers, - 
The  gems  of  the  earth  are  they; 
Uplifting  the  loneliest  hours 

That  meet  us  from  day  to  day. 
There  is  joy  in  their  fragrance  rare, 

And  hope  in  their  lustre  clear; 
And  friendship  and  beauty  fair 
In  summer's  companions  dear. 

To  the  sick  and  the  weary  they  bring 

A  joy  that  is  all  untold; 
Life's  winter  is  turned  to  spring, 

Its  dross  unto  burnished  gold. 
In  their  petals  the  morning  sun 

Forever  in  glory  beams; 
And  ever  till  life  is  done 

Are  memory's  fadeless  gleams. 

There  are  visions  that  never  decay 

Of  those  who  have  gone  before. 
They  bring  us,  o'er  life's  dark  way, 

The  kisses  we  know  no  more. 
Though  the  hand  is  now  cold  that  gave, 

Ah  !  who  of  us  can  forget 
The  love  that  beyond  the  grave 

Lives  on  in  some  violet. 
116 


Our  Grange.  117 

Oh,  the  beautiful  mission  of  flowers 

Earth-sent  by  the  Lord  above, 
To  teach  us  in  weariest  hours 

A  lesson  of  light  and  love. 
There  is  joy,  in  each  daisy  fair 

That  stars  every  field  and  dell; 
And  the  humblest  flower  everywhere 

Has  a  message  from  God  to  tell. 


OUR  GRANGE. 

AIR:     "RED,    WHITE   AND    BLUE." 

OUR  Grange  be  the  theme  of  our  chorus, 
Its  influence  spreading  afar, 
And  bright  be  the  pathway  before  us 

While  truth  guides  us  on  like  a  star. 
No  idle  dissensions  o'ercloud  us, 
But  sweetest  devotion  inspire; 
May  selfishness  never  enshroud  us, — 
Our  motto  be  "  Higher  still  Higher  !  " 

Our  Grange  be  the  theme  of  our  song, 
May  gladness  its  mission  prolong; 
Oh,  thus  on  each  festal  day  ever, 
Our  Grange  be  the  theme  of  our  song  ! 


n8  A  Summer's  Day. 

Our  Grange,  —  'tis  the  heart's  deep  devotion, 

'Tis  there  we  may  lovingly  meet; 
Its  sway  rules  from  ocean  to  ocean, 

Oh,  still  keep  its  unity  sweet ! 
Its  bright  festal  days  keep  we  ever 

And  unto  its  teachings  be  true; 
For  it  be  each  heart's  best  endeavor, 

While  seasons  their  bounty  renew. 

Our  Grange  be  the  theme,  &c. 


A  SUMMER'S  DAY. 

OH,   breath    of   the   summer,  how   sweet   unto 
me  ! 

Some  token  of  love  in  each  floweret  I  see, — 
Some  new   hope  is  wakened,  by    Heaven,  in    the 

heart 
Of  those  who  are  thoughtfully  bearing  life's  part. 

By  blue  of  old  ocean,  as  raptured  I  stand, 
I  gaze  on  the  work  of  His  almighty  hand; 
And  the  wild  sparkling  waves,  as  in  beauty  they 

leap, 
Give  voice  to  His  majesty  wondrous  and  deep. 

In  each  silent  blossom,  so  fragrant  and  fair, 
Are  tributes  of  love  that  the  Father  placed  there. 
Shall  I  not  then  praise  Him,  and,  jubilant  sing, 
In  this  tiny  song  of  the  summer  I  bring  ? 


ALL  HAIL  OUR  QUEEN. 
AIR:  "AMERICA." 

ALL  hail  our  radiant  queen  ! 
From  hills  and  meadows  green 
We  gather  here. 
With  heart  and  soul  elate, 
We  own  thy  sway  so  great, 
And  for  thy  message  wait 
From  year  to  year. 

Our  queen  superb  art  thou  ! 
With  homage  do  we  bow 

Before  thy  throne. 
Thy  teaching  to  each  heart, 
From  day  to  day  impart, 
For  loveliness  thou  art 

From  zone  to  zone. 

Beauty  and  grace  divine, — 
These  symbols  fair  are  thine, 

And  faith  and  love. 
To  Him  who  sent  this  day, 
Oh,  give  our  thanks  alway  ! 
All  hearts  Thy  will  obey, 

Great  God  above. 

119 


FLORA  DAY. 

WE  hail  thee,  lovely  Day  of  flowers  ! 
Oh,  joy  again  to  meet, 
Amid  the  gems  from  Nature's  bowers, 

Of  fragrance  rare  and  sweet ! 
Oh,  Flora,  Queen  of  radiant  reign  ! 

Our  Grange,  with  royalty, 
Thou  hast  in  gladness  wreathed  again 
And  summer's  greenery. 

We  welcome  thee, — thy  subjects  true, 

With  ardor  and  delight. 
Crowned  with  thy  garlands  fresh  with  dew, 

Oh,  boon  unto  our  sight  ! 
Thy  throne  a  bank  of  roses  fair, 

Thy  scepter  lilies  twined, 
Thy  realm  the  summer  everywhere, 

In  every  heart  enshrined. 

We  give  our  hearts  to  thee  this  day, 

For  peace  and  love  abound; 
There's  gladness  in  thy  colors  gay, 

With  song  thy  life  is  crowned. 
Oh,  use  thy  influence  so  bright 

Where'er  thy  votaries  meet  ! 
Make  Flora  Day  a  dear  delight, 

A  symbol  pure  and  sweet. 

120 


A  BIRD'S  SONG. 


WHILE  bobolinks  are  piping  clear, 
And  robins  flute  all  day; 
While  blackbirds  in  the  glades  we  hear, 

And  daisies  light  the  way; 
A  pensive  voice,  from  nook  remote, 
Gives  utterance  to  one  sad  note: 
"Phcebe!     Phcebe  !  " 

II. 

It  mocks  the  witchery  of  Spring, 

The  glory  of  the  leaves, 
While  fragrant  blossoms  lightly  cling, — 

This  tiny  voice  that  grieves. 
Oh,  bird  that  pleads  so  plaintively, 
Has  thy  fond  nest-mate  gone  from  thee  ? 
"Phcebe!     Phcebe!" 


121 


ABSENCE. 

THOUGH  Southern  skies  are  o'er  thee,  dear, 
Where  sweet  magnolias  grow, 
The  North,  without  thee,  seems  more  drear, — 
Darker  than  thou  canst  know. 

While  Winter's  mine,  with  snow  and  gloom, 

Thine  is  the  gentle  May; 
Soon  orange  trees  will  be  in  bloom, 

And  roses  bright  and  gay. 

Could  I  take  wings,  I'd  fly,  dear  heart, 

To  clasp  thee  by  the  hand, — 
I'd  meet  thee  there,  from  all,  apart, 

In  thy  fair  sunny  land. 

Oh,  sweet  our  meeting  then  would  be  ! 

But,  love,  I'll  murmur  not, 
Though  I  am  far,  so  far  from  thee, 

If  I  am  ne'er  forgot. 


122 


OLD  AGE. 

A  TREASURE  of  wisdom  hath  ripe  old  age, 
And  what  knowledge  it  can  impart, — 
Experience  written  on  Life's  clear  page, 

To  instruct  and  improve  the  heart. 
We  read  where  a  Monarch  once  bowed  his  head 

To  a  shepherd  who  roamed  the  hills; 
And  a  sweet  benediction  of  light  was  shed 
O'er  his  Life  with  its  joys  and  ills  ! 

E'en  now,  oft  the  blessings  of  dear,  old  sires 

Bring  us  rest,   as  we  trod  Life's  way; 
Experience,  ripened  as  if  through  fires, 

Points  a  path  to  us,  day  by  day. 
Yea,  Jacob  did  bless  an  anointed  King, 

In  the  centuries  long  ago  ! 
And  all  honor  and  glory  did  proudly  cling 

To  the  blessing  he  did  bestow. 

Oh,  words  of  the  aged  ne'er  cast  aside, 

But  with  meekness  receive  and  heed  ! 
How  precious  are  they  to  a  Youth  untried, 

How  they  answer  the  spirit's  need  ! 
With  reverence,  then,  we  should  bow  the  knee 

To  the  old,  when  they  counsel  give; 
For  the  perils  beyond  us  they  clearly  see, 

They  can  teach  us  the  way  to  live  ! 
123 


1 24  Old  Age. 

Oh,  the  wonderful  boon  for  a  heart  to'  beat 

Through  its  journey  of  four-score  years  ! — 
Still  patiently  treading  the  dust  and  heat, 

And  enduring  the  cares  and  tears  ! 
Then  scorn  not  the  lesson  they  would  impart, 

For  to  Youth  'tis  a  precious  gain; 
And  'twill  lighten  the  burden  where'er  thou  art, 

And  'twill  turn  thee  from  paths  of  pain. 

Protect  thou  the  aged  with  constant  love, 

For  they  linger  not  with  us  long  ! 
Their  Father  is  waiting  for  them  above, 

They  are  waiting,  to  sing  His  song  ! 
Their  sweet  benediction  be  ever  ours, 

While  so  gently  they  linger  here; 
O'er  their  pathway  still  scatter  the  sweetest  flowers, 

As  the  down  hill  of  Life  we  cheer  ! 


SO  TIRED. 

WHEN  Night  calls  weary  ones  to  rest, 
My  thoughts  fly  far  away  ; 
I  think  of  noble  hearts,  worn  out, 

With  cares  and  toils  of  day. 
Oh,  ye,  o'erburdened  with  your  grief ! 

Oh,  ye,  oppressed  with  care  ! 
Rest  now  your  faith  on  Him  who  said  : 
"  All  sorrows  I  will  bear." 

My  thoughts  go  back,  on  dove-like  wings, 

To  Ages  long  ago, 
When  David,  King  of  Israel, 

Grew  tired  through  grief  and  woe  ; 
When  sad  of  soul  he  sat  him  down, 

His  Kingly  harp  in  hand, 
Remembering  how,  a  shepherd  lad, 

He  sang  of  that  blest  Land. 

"  My  rod  and  staff  they  comfort  me, 
My  Shepherd's  voice  sustains  ; 

He  leadeth  me,  He  strengthened!  me, 
To  bear  earth's  grief  and  pain  ! " 

Though  we're  not  Kings,  yet  everyone 
Has  his  or  her  small  realm  ; 

We  all  need  help  from  this  dear  Friend 

-     To  guide  our  vessel's  helm. 
'25 


126  So  Tired. 

The  rich,  the  poor,  complain  alike — 

"  We're  tired  to  death  "   they  say  ; 
No  matter  what  their  lot  may  be, 

They  worry  all  the  day. 
Down,  wolf  of  Drink  ! — to  vex  and  fret 

Down,  worry,  vice  and  woe  ! 
Come,  rod  and  staff,  to  comfort  all, 

And  peace  and  love  bestow. 

Oh,  Man  of  Nazareth,  I  believe 

In  Thy  Life,  Death  and  Power  ! 
Thy  Word, — it  rests  and  heals  me  now, 

I  grasp  its  truth  each  hour. 
It  is  my  staff,  it  helps  to  cheer, 

It  calms  my  anguish  here  ; 
'Twill  aid  me  surely,  when  I  die, 

To  know  my  Lord  is  near. 


A  SPRING  FANCY. 

ROBIN  HOOD  and  his  merry  men, 
Garbed  in  green,  have  come  again  ! 
Out  with  the  bluebird's  fluted  song, 
While  buds,  like  bees,  the  branches  throng. 

Friar  bold  who  heads  the  clan, 
Winsome,  sweet  maid  Marian, 
Little  John,  and  the  archers  near, 
Glance  in  the  morning  breezy,  clear. 

Over  hill  and  dale  they  throng, 
Green  plumes  twinkling,  mirth  and  song  ; 
Merry  men  all,  and  merry  lass, 
Mimicked  in  these  blades  of  grass. 


127 


THE  BALM  OF  KINDNESS. 

OH,  the  rankling,  the  bitter  and  unkind  word  ! 
How  cruelly  poignant  its  sting  ! 
The  heart  from  its  depths  is  with  anguish  stirred 
When  we  hear  its  metallic  ring. 

When   we're  leaving    our    home,   full  of  hope  so 
bright, 

At  morning,  at  noontide,  or  eve, 
It  darkens  our  path,  like  the  dreariest  night, 

While  with  torturing  thoughts  we  grieve. 

How  it  robs  all  our  lives  of  their  music  and  joy,  — 

Embitters  our  sunniest  hope  ! 
Unwelcome  it  falls,  but  to  bring  annoy, 

While  in  anguish  our  spirits  grope. 

But  oh,  when  it  comes  from  a  friend  we  love, 

Its  dart  then  we  doubly  feel  ! 
It  falls,  like  a  thunderbolt  from  above, 

Or  a  blade  of  the  keenest  steel. 

Ah  !  it  pierces  the  deeps  of  our  inmost  soul, 

And  rankles  with  pitiless  pain  ! 
It  would  make,  e'en  of  Heaven,  perdition's  goal  ! 

Stamp  an  Angel  with  deadly  stain. 
128 


The  Balm  of  Kindness.  1 29 

But  oh,  ye  kind  words,  what  a  joy  ye  bring  ! 

What  happiness,  sunlight  and  bliss  ! 
Ye  make  earth  around  us  rejoice  and  sing, 

Who  your  wonderful  balm  would  miss  ? 

Your  breath  is  a  joy  to  the  wounded  heart, 

When  darkest  of  clouds  hover  o'er; 
Ye  lead  us  to  choose  that  better  part 

That  will  guide  us  to  yon  bright  shore. 

And  when  the  glad  sunshine  of  hope  beams  bright, 

And  skies  are  all  tranquil  and  clear, 
Our  hearts  will  retain  their  youthful  light, 

If  no  unkindly  words  we  hear. 

And  when,  too,  old  age  creeps  upon  Life's  way 

With  winds  of  the  Winter  so  drear, 
Then  kind  words  illume  with  their  gladsome  ray 

All  thefgloom  of  our  pathway  here. 

Ah,  yes, — when  we  cross  the  brighter  shore, 

And  enter  those  mansions  so  pure, 
Kind  words  from  our  Saviour  will  welcome  us  o'er 

Unto  joys  that  will  e'er  endure  ! 


FRIENDSHIP. 

'nniS  sweet  to  think  of  friends  we  love, 
1        When  doubt  and  gloom  hang  o'er  ; 

Our  minds  in  Fancy  bright  will  rove 
To  see  their  smiles  once  more. 

Their  faith  so  true,  their  aid  and  cheer, 

To  us  are  golden  rays, 
Which  lull  to  rest  each  weary  fear 

Thro'  Life's  enshrouded  days. 

Methinks  'tis  Heaven  that  gives  us  friends 

In  every  trying  hour  ; 
To  teach  us  that  God's  love  extends 

Where  darkest  tempests  lower. 

Oh,  let's  be  worthy  of  their  love, — 

Their  sympathy  so  sweet  ; 
Their  messages  are  from  above, 

With  joy  our  hearts  they  greet. 

Tho'  troubles  fall,  and  weary  care 

May  cast  its  shadows  'round, 
'Tis  happiness  a  friend  to  share 

And  be  in  friendship  bound. 
130 


Friendship.  131 

All  honor  to  the  tried  and  true  ! 

They're  ours,  thro'  pain  and  joy  ; 
Tho'  they  be  numbered  with  the  few, 

They're  gold,  without  alloy  ! 

What  fickle  friendships,  once  so  dear, 

Have  drifted  far  away. 
We  loved  them  well  when  they  were  near, 

They  blest  us  for  a  day. 

Beware  of  friends,  only  in  name  ! 

When  we  have  lost  a  friend, 
We  realize  our  love  was  vain, 

While  sadly  on  we  wend. 

But  there's  a  Friend  will  ne'er  forsake 

Tho'  grief  and  gloom  be  ours  ! 
He  steadfast  is  till  dawn  shall  break, 

And  sunlight  gilds  the  showers. 

If  we're  in  care,  He's  at  our  side  ; 

He's  with  us,  when  we  weep  ; 
Tho'  disappointments  may  betide, 

The  Saviour  watch  doth  keep. 

He  ever  to  His  friends  is  true. 

Oh,  follow  where  He  trod  ! 
His  loving  precepts  still  pursue, 

They  lead  to  Heaven  and  God  ! 


SNOWDROPS. 

IN  a  flurry  the  snow-flakes  fluttered  down, 
From  a  sudden  cloud  o'erhead  ; 
And  the  earth  seemed  new, 
As  they  near  it  drew  : 
' '  Were  strangers  here, ' '  they  said. 

For  the  wand  of  the  Spring  hath  touched  the  vales, 
And  the  sod  no  longer  slept ; 

The  brooks  leaped  out, 

With  a  silvery  shout, 
And  the  grass  blades  upward  crept. 

Now  the  sunshine  had  only  played  ' '  bo-peep  : ' ' 
"  I  will  catch  these  flakes,"  it  said, 

For  I  mark  a  grace 

' '  On  each  pretty  face  ; 
So  my  golden  net  I'll  spread  !  " 

Then  it  wove  for  them  dresses  of  white  and  green, 
And,  one  morning,  breezy  fair, 

All  the  lonely  side 

Of  a  mountain  wide 
Lighted  up  with  the  snowdrops  there  ! 


132 


EASTER. 

WHY  seek  the  living  midst  the  dead  ? 
Be  sure  they  are  not  there  ! 
Why  sadly,  softly  dost  thou  tread, 

And  scatter  flow'rets  fair? 
This  Easter  morn  proclaims  they  live  ! 

This  ground  they  never  trod  ; 
On  Judgement  Day  behold  !  they  give 
New  bodies  to  this  sod  ! 

Oh,  theme  so  grand  we  cannot  grasp 

Nor  fathom  its  bright  ray  ! 
We  feel  the  thrill, — wait  for  the  clasp 

Of  Resurrection  Day. 
Glad  heart  of  mine,  dost  thou  not  feel 

That  this  calm,  hallowed  hour 
Is  now  the  signet  and  the  seal 

Of  promised  Life  and  power  ? 

Though  tasks  remain  unfinished  here, 

In  that  Eternal  Land 
They  shall  survive, — shall  reappear, 

If  noble,  true  and  grand  ! 
Yes,  all  will  then  employment  find 

If  they  with  truth  and  love 
And  meekness  discipline  the  mind  : 

For  them  God's  work  above. 
133 


1 34  Easter. 

To  know  that  Jesus  rose  again, 

Death  loses  half  its  sting  ! 
Our  fears  it  calms,  it  quells  our  pain, 

With  thankful  hearts  we  sing. 
Oh,  will  the  Angels  then  appear, 

And  roll  the  stone  away  ! 
To  you,  to  me,  will  they  draw  near 

On  Resurrection  Day? 

God  grant  alone  we  may  not  be  ; 

But  with  those  spirits  bright 
May  we  be  cheered  eternally, 

And  led  to  Life  and  Light. 
We'll  ride  on  chariot-clouds,  we  know, 

As  Christ  did  long  before; 
Now  buried  in  His  likeness, — Lo  ! 

We  rise,  we  breathe,  we  soar  ! 

Bright  Easter  !  while  we  celebrate, 

Hark  !     Herald-angels  sing  ! 
We  know  our  loved  ones  there  await, 

And  hallelujahs  sing. 
Thus  praying,  through  His  only  Son, 

God  will  direct  our  way, 
We  breathe  aloud  "  Thy  will  be  done," 

And  praise  this  Easter  Day  ! 


REST. 

"There  remaineth  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God." 

UNTO  you  there  remaineth  a  rest, 
A  rest,  for  the  people  of  God. 
Oh,  let  this  be  Life's  richest  bequest, 
Till  all  of  Life's  journey  be  trod  ! 

Blessed  Hope,  sweetest  boon  unto  me. 

You  come,  like  a  mild,  healing  balm  ; 
Our  weary  souls  then  shall  be  free, 

And  heart-storms  be  lulled  to  a  calm. 

Here  we  struggle  along  through  Life's  care, 

Still  striving  to  bear  all  its  ills  ; 
Take  courage  !  we  here  but  prepare 

For  Rest,  which  the  Saviour  fulfills. 

For  an  earnest  of  this  blissful  rest 

Our  spirit  can  feel  even  now, 
We  must  choose  the  fair  path  which  is  best, 

With  dauntless  and  God-fearing  brow. 

Then  all  glory  and  praises  be  given 

Unto  our  Redeemer  this  day ! 
He  hath  kept,  for  the  hearts  that  have  striven, 

A  rest  that  shall  ne'er  fade  away. 
135 


A  MOTHER'S  LOSS. 

(j.    HARRY    ALDRICH.) 

MY  absent  boy  !     My  absent  boy  ! 
This  heart  is  aching  now; 
Life  is  for  me  a  path  of  care, 

And  throbs  my  anguished  brow. 
Thy  bounding  step  I  hear  no  more, 

I  miss  thy  cheerful  face; 
The  zest  of  Life,  for  me,  is  o'er, 
I  long  for  thy  embrace. 

I  see  thy  lone  and  vacant  chair, 

And  wonder,  lingering  near, 
How  long  before  I'll  meet  thee  there, 

Thy  gentle  voice  to  hear. 
Sometimes,  when  twilight's  holy  hour 

Steals  o'er  our  joyless  home, 
I  hear  a  voice, — some  unseen  power 

Says:   "  Mother,  back  I've  come  !  " 

Then  rapture  fills  my  heart  once  more 

Sweet  music  fills  the  air  ! 
I  wake  to  find  the  bright  dream  o'er, 

And  utter  this  fond  prayer, — 

'36 


Easter-  Time.  1 37 

That  when  Life's  weary  path  is  trod, 

In  yonder  realms  of  joy, 
Within  the  mansions  of  my  God 

I'll  meet  my  absent  boy. 


EASTER-TIME. 

AH  !  not  alone,  in  symbols  bright, 
Let  fonted  lilies  speak 
Of  Him,  the  way,  the  truth,  the  light, 

The  lowly,  meek. 
Nor  bells  alone,  to  bending  blue, 

Echo,  with  joyful  breath, 
The  endless  story,  ever  new, 

Of  conquered  Death. 
But,  pilgrim  soul,  where'er  thou  art, 

Hear  Faith's  clear,  wakening  chime, 
And,  with  Hope's  lilies  in  thy  heart, 

Keep  Easter-time  ! 


THE  WONDERFUL  WHISPER. 

WHAT  volumes  God  whispers  to  the  soul, 
Yea,  listen  and  heed  them  well ! 
They  come  unto  us,  while  the  ages  roll, 
Their  warnings  of  love  to  tell. 

Oh,  hath  He  not  said:   "  Friend,  go  in  peace  ! 

Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee?  " 
Uplifting  the  burden,  and  giving  release: 

' '  I  was  once  blind,  now  I  see  !  ' ' 

Likewise,  "  My  peace  I  give  unto  thee." 
Oh,  not  as  the  world  doth  give, — 

It  gives  to  the  many,  also  to  the  few; 
But  God's  gift  for  aye  shall  live. 

Oh,  the  clasp  of  a  true,  true  Christian's  hand  ! 

It  cheereth  Life's  lonely  way; 
It  leadeth  us  out  of  the  weary  night 

To  beautiful  dawn  of  day. 

We  must  not  wish  Him  to  speak  too  loud; 

He  can  thunder  in  trumpet  tones, 
Or  whisper  e'en  in  the  moving  cloud, 

Or  in  rocks  and  rills  and  stones. 


138 


One  Hour  With  Thee. 


One  hour  with  Thee,  O  dearest  Jesus, 

In  silence  at  Thy  feet, 
One  hour  of  rest,  of  joy,  of  bliss, 

My  (rod,  My  God  how  sweet: 
To  kneel  before  Thy  earthly  throne 

And  ga/e  upon  thee  here, 
To  be  one  hour  with  thee  alone, 

And  oh  to  be  so  near. 

What  can  I  do?     What  can  I  say? 

How  praise,  how  thank,  how  love. 
What  fitting  homage  can  I  pay? 

O,  angels  from  above. 
Lend  me  your  voices  for  one  hour, 

Lend  me  your  tongues  to  speak. 
Some  word  of  love,  some  word  of  praise. 

For  mine  are  all  too  weak. 

My  God.  my  Father,  Friend,  my  All. 

IIo\v  sweet  this  hour  to  me, 
What  feast  of  love  of  heav'nly  light. 

These  moments  spent  with  Thee, 
Ah.  words  my  Jesus  cannot  tell, 

The  rapture  of  this  union. 
Whilst  Thou  art  mine  and  I  all  Thine 

In  this  one  sweet  communion. 


O 
U 

L 
It 

C 

I 

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C 


The   Wonderful  Whisper.  139 

Sweet  echoes,  return  !  thou'rt  mine,  all  mine  ! 

In  wonderful  whispers  sweet  ! 
Yea,  Lord,  in  my  heart  I'll  ne'er  repine, 

While  faithful  my  watch  I  keep  ! 

Yes,  he  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  can  hear 

Those  whispers  of  sweetest  love. 
They  soothe  every  sad  and  weary  tear, 

They  tell  us  of  joys  above. 

They  come  to  the  rich  and  to  the  poor, — 

The  palace  and  cot  the  same; 
The  breath  of  God  it  shall  still  endure 

To  soothe  e'en  the  blind  and  lame. 

It  sometimes  falleth  in  accents  mild, 

In  sorrow  and  tears  and  song; 
Oh,  Lord,  make  our  faith  like  to  a  child, 

The  praise  unto  Thee  belong  ! 

And  when  the  last  whisper  comes  to  all, 

Oft  sooner  than  heart  e'er  dreamed, 
Oh,  may  we  all  welcome  His  loving  call, 

''  Come  to  Me,  thou  art  redeemed  !  " 


OH,   ICY  HEART  OF  WINTER  ! 

OH,  icy  heart  of  Winter  drear, 
I've  known  thy  blighting  breath  ! 
For  then  my  boy  was  called  from  here 
To  mystic  realms  of  Death. 

Oh,  dids't  thou  deem  him  all  too  grand, 

Too  pure  for  taint  of  sin  ! 
Then  called  him  to  you  Summer  Land 

Where  all  may  enter  in. 

Ah  !  though  in  Winter  was  his  flight, 

And  Winter  rules  us  now, 
Still  he  was  Thine  by  every  right, — 

Unto  Thy  will  we  bow. 

His  dear  eyes  had  that  far-off  look  ; 

I  called  him  angel  child  ! 
A  voice,  as  of  a  singing  brook, 

Was  his,  and  mien  so  mild. 

Oh,  God  of  that  bright  Summer  Land 
Whose  flowers  forever  bloom, 

We  know  he's  numbered  with  that  band 
That  fear  not  Winter's  gloom  ! 

140 


To  A  Fire- fly.  141 

And  though  in  Winter  we  should  go 

To  meet  our  own  above, 
Thy  smile  will  keep  us  all  aglow 

With  purity  and  love. 


TO  A  FIRE-FLY. 

GUARDIAN  of  the  Summer  night, 
With  your  lantern's  winking  light, 
Searching  under  dusky  leaves, 
Tangled  vines,  and  cottage  eaves, 
When  the  cricket's  shrilly  cheep 
Warns  you  that  the  world's  asleep  ! 
Here,  at  daylight,  dull  and  slow, 
Not  one  gleam  of  gold  you  show. 

In  your  bronze-brown  garb  again, 
Straggling  o'er  a  leafs  green  plain, 
Who  could  guess,  by  any  art, 
The  warm  glow  that  fills  your  heart  ? 
So  a  friend  may  wander  by 
While  our  sunshine  still  is  high  ; 
But,  when  shadows  fall  around, 
Steadfast,  warm  and  true  be  found. 


142  Autumn  Rain. 

So  the  love  that  hidden  lies 
Wakes  to  glad  our'heart  and  eyes, 
When  adversity  draws  near, 
And  false  love-lights  disappear. 
Cheering  all  the  starlit  calm  ; 
Rover  'mid  the  musky  balm  ; 
Restless,  pulsing,  sudden  spark  ; 
Summer's  jewel  in  the  dark. 


AUTUMN  RAIN. 

A  WEIRD,  monotonous  refrain, 
O'er  sodden  leaves,  black  with  their  blight, 
As  the  fingers  of  the  Northwind  smite 
The  tense,  steel  harp-strings  of  the  rain  ! 


AT  TWILIGHT. 

WHEN,  at  twilight,  oft  I  ponder 
On  the  Future  and  the  Past, 
Thinking  deeply,  then  I  wonder 
Will  these  shadows  always  last  ? 

Are  there  no  bright  days  before  me  ? 

In  the  darkness  must  I  wait  ? 
Will  the  clouds  be  always  o'er  me? 

Mine  a  sad  and  cruel  fate  ? 

Star-like  Hope  afar  is  beaming, 

Whispering  :     "  All  will  be  well  !  " 

But  perhaps  my  heart  is  dreaming, 
Ever  dreaming, — who  can  tell? 

Patiently  I  muse,  nor  murmur  ; 

Life  is  but  a  brittle  thread  ; 
Yet  my  strength  would  be  the  firmer 

If  bright  pathways  I  could  tread. 

Why,  oh,  why  this  heart's  wild  beating? 

Why  this  tumult  in  my  breast  ? 
Father,  unto  Thee  retreating, 

I  would  crave  thy  Peace  and  Rest. 


r43 


THE  ESTHETIC  CROWS. 

CAW  !  Caw  !  "  beside  a  fallow  field 
A  band  of  old  crows  sat ; 
The  good  old  farmer  planted  corn, 

They  looked  askance  at  that  ; 
"  Caw  !  Caw  !  "  when  he  departs,  cried  they 
"  We'll  find  out  what  he's  at." 

The  noonday  sun  grew  high  and  hot, 

The  farmer  quit  his  task  ; 
And  then  the  crows, — to  speak  it  so, — 

Threw  off  their  simple  mask, 
And  carried  off  that  farmer's  corn  ; 

His  leave  they  didn't  ask. 

Now,  what  they  couldn't  eat  that  day, 

They  buried  for  the  next  ; 
So,  when  that  good  old  farmer  came, 

He  stood  awhile  perplexed  ; 
And,  though  a  man  of  manners  mild, 

Was  evidently  vexed. 

Thought  he,  "  a  scare-crow  I'll  set  up 

Their  knavish  tricks  to  stop  ; 
I'll  rig  me  up  one  instantly, 

Before  more  corn  I  drop  ; 
Until  I  drive  these  thieves  away 

How  can  I  raise  a  crop  ?  ' ' 
144 


The  Aesthetic  Crows,  145 

He  stuffed  a  worn  out  suit  with  straw, 

And  propped  it  up  straightway  ; 
The  crows  that  dotted  all  the  woods 

Looked  down  in  grim  dismay. 
"  Ha  !  Ha  !  "  the  farmer  chuckled  then, 

"  I  don't  think,  now,  they'll  stay  !  " 

But  when  the  farmer  left  his  field 

They  brought  his  stolen  corn, 
And  laid  it  in  the  holes  again, 

With  actions  quite  forlorn  ; 
"What  have  we  done,"  cried  they,  "to  meet 

With  such  bucolic  scorn  ? 

"  Our  punishment  is  much  to  sad  ; 

We  are  not  driven  hence  ; 
And  for  this  farmer's  well-meant  jest, 

We  make  this  recompense  ; 
That  we'd  mistake  this  for  a  man, 

Shocks  our  artistic  sense.  " 

That  farmer's  corn  grew  tall  and  thick, 

And  waved  in  tasseled  pride  ; 
But  never  since  that  day  have  crows 

His  field  with  envy  eyed. 
He  couldn't  guess  the  reason  why, 

I  don't  believe  he  tried. 


IN  MEMORIAM. 

(LAURA  DE  GRAFF.) 

BUD  of  promise,  our  heart's  treasure, 
Chilled  by  blighting  frosts  of  earth  ! 
Faded  hopes, — Ah,  who  can  measure, 
Who  describe  the  lonely  hearth  ? 

Yet,  'tis  by  these  sacred  flowers, — 

These  angelic  lives  sublime, 
Showing  here  God-given  powers, 

That  we  prove  a  Life  divine. 

We  shall  meet,  to  part,  ah,  never  ! 

When  we  walk  those  streets  of  gold, 
Where  those  buds  shall  bloom  forever 

In  the  loving  Saviour's  fold. 

Darling,  though  our  hearts  are  broken, 
Though  our  Laura's  voice  is  still, 

We'll  remember  Christ  hath  spoken, 
He  will  yet  His  words  fulfill  ! 


146 


LOVE. 

WHENCE   is  the  mystical   power  thou   dost 
wield, 

From  sin  and  sorrow  my  being  to  shield  ? 
Hovering  o'er  me,  like  Angelic  wing, 
Soothing  the  cares  that  each  morrow  may  bring. 
Earth  seems  a  bower,  all  beauteous  and  bright, 
When  Love  sheds  o'er  us  its  pure,  happy  light. 

Love  lifts  our  burdens  and  dries  all  our  tears, 
Chases  away  all  our  sorrows  and  fears  ; 
Sweetly  and  merrily  Time  glides  along, 
Filling  our  days  with  enchantment  and  song. 
Clouds  of  the  tempest  can  ne'er  hover  near, 
When  the  dear  voice  of  our  loved  one  we  hear. 

Stay  then,  oh,  Love  !  with  thy  rapturous  gleams, 

Shed  o'er  Life's  journey  thy  blest,  starry  beams  ! 

Ecstasy  filleth  my  soul,  as  I  list 

Unto  thy  voice,  in  the  deepening  mist  ! 

WThile  thy  blest  halo  of  infinite  light 

Quickens  my  soul  with  its  wakening  might. 

Love  !  while  thine  accents  so  tenderly  fall, 
Thrilling  my  heart  with  their  mystical  call, 


148  Love, 

Gladly  thy  summons  I  haste  to  obey, — 
Love  !  in  thy  presence  each  moment  I'd  stay  ! 
Sweet  is  the  voyage,  down  Life's  rippling  tide, 
When  thou,  oh,  dearest,  art  here  by  my  side  ! 

Time  cannot  bring  me  one  wearisome  day, — 
Love-light  can  charm  every  shadow  away. 
In  thy  dear  face  I  read  all  that  is  best, 
In  thine  arms'  shelter,  I  find  peace  and  rest. 
Kindred  or  friendship  can  never  compare, 
Love  !  with  the  rapture  beside  thee  I  share  ! 

Oh,  the  wild  thrill  in  the  clasp  of  thy  hand, 
Quickens  the  ardor  that  Friendship  had  fanned  ! 
Now,  as  I  gaze  in  thy  dear,  tender  eyes, 
Clearly  I  see  the  fond  love  that  ne'er  dies. 
Truer  and  nobler  than  station  or  fame, — 
Brighter  and  richer,  is  Love's  gentle  flame  ! 

Then  sweetly  caress  me,  my  darling,  my  own, 
Whatever  betide,  I  am  thine,  thine  alone  ! 
Oh,  what  is  our  life  but  the  darkest  unrest 
Love  !  without  thee  and  thy  sympathy  blest  ! 
Welcome  is  Death,  and  its  dark,  dark  eclipse, 
Love  !  with  thy  kisses  of  joy  on  our  lips  ! 

When,  at  last,  to  our  gaze  the  sad  angel  appears, 
And  slowly  our  barque  yonder  silent  shore  nears, 
Where  loved  ones  are  standing  to  welcome  us  o'er, 
Where  trouble  and  sorrow  shall  blight  us  no  more, 
The  Father  we'll  know,  in  blest  mansions  above, 
Whose  Name  is  forever  the  symbol  of  Love. 


"MEMORIAL  DAY." 


OVER  valley  and  plain  where  our  heroes  re 
pose, 

We  have  strewn  the  bright  garlands  of  spring, 
And  the  pure,  dewy  tears  of  the  lily  and  rose 
On  their  graves  with  sweet  sympathy  cling  ! 

II. 

In  each  veteran's  heart  what  proud  memories  wake, 
As  the  loud,  steady  tramp  dies  away. 

When  he  thinks  of  the  comrades  for  whose  hallowed 

sake, 
He  has  kept  this  Memorial  Day. 

in. 
They  are   camped  where  the  sunlight  of  glory  is 

shed, 

And  the  storm-cloud  of  battle  no  more 
Shall  thunder  its  fury  their  ranks  overhead; 
The  march  with  its  tumult  is  o'er. 

IV. 

But  how  proud  is  the  heritage  left  to  our  land, 
Oh,  the  deeds  that  they  wrought  are  enscrolled 

On  the  still  growing  stars  of  our  banner  so  grand, 
And  their  blood  has  made  pure  every  fold. 
149 


150  "Follow  Me" 

v. 

They   are   living,  though  dead,  in    the   nation    we 

love, 

In  the  hearts  of  a  people  they  breathe, 
And  the  stars  of  our  standard  gleams  down  from 

above 
O'er  the  shrines  that  our  garlands  enwreathe. 

VI. 

So  proudly  we  speak  of  the  heroes  that  fell 
In  the  years  that  have  rolled  far  away, 

And  forever  the  nation  their  story  shall  tell 
On  its  deathless  Memorial  Day  ! 


"FOLLOW  ME!" 

I   WOULD  that  the  Saviour  might  come  to  our 
home, 

As  He  came,  in  those  days  of  yore. 
We  know  that  His  spirit  from  Heaven  doth  roam, 
And  waits  for  us  long  at  the  door. 

He  sayeth,  as  then,  "  Follow  me  !     Follow  me  ! 

Confide  all  your  sorrows  and  care  ! ' ' 
Yea,  Lord,  all  the  day  we  have  trusted  in  Thee, 

Thou' It  help  us  Life's  burdens  to  bear. 


"Follow  Me."  151 

Oh,  carry  His  word  to  the  office,  the  store, 
The  factory,  the  school  which  we  seek  ! 

To  the  farm  or  the  city,  or  'mid  ocean's  roar, 
He's  with  us  each  day  of  the  week. 

For  "  Lo  !  am  I  not  with  you  always,"  He  said, 

' '  Even  unto  the  end  of  the  world  ! 
I  was  crucified,  buried,  and  rose  from  the  dead, 

That  the  sin  from  thy  heart  might  be  hurled  !  " 

All  round  us  we  witness  His  presence  and  power, 

In  earth  and  in  sky  and  in  air; 
All  nature  inspires  us,  and  to  Thee  this  hour 

Our  thoughts  are  ascending  in  prayer. 

He  came  unto  Mary  and  Martha,  so  pure, 
He  sympathized,  too,  with  their  care, 

He  came  upon  earth  mortal  ills  to  endure, 
And  all  weary  burdens  to  bear. 

He  knows  our  affairs,  all  our  troubles  and  needs, 

His  judgment  excels  all  else  here; 
He   who    paints    the    sunsets,  our   inmost  thought 
reads, 

He  loveth  His  children,  so  dear. 

In  Him  who  adorneth  the  wing  of  the  bird, 

Forever  on  earth  we  can  trust; 
Oh,  joyful  the  hour  when  His  name  first  we  heard, 

We  feel  that  His  wisdom  is  just. 


152  Spirit  Voices. 

We  know,  if  we  faithfully  walk  by  His  side, 

And  link  our  thoughts  unto  His  life, 
All  contamination  will  ever  subside, 

And  calm  will  replace  every  strife. 

And,  when  the  last  journey  shall  unto  us  come, 

We'll  hear  that  celestial  strain, — 
"Follow    me,  I    will    guide  you  to  yon  Heavenly 
Home, 

Your  heritage,  faithful,  to  gain." 

Through  clouds,  and  through  space,  we  will  "  Fol 
low  Thee,"  Lord  ! 

Thou  glorious  Leader,  so  grand  ! 
Great  Pathfinder,  may  we  take  Thee  at  Thy  word 

And  go  at  Thy  loving  command  ! 


SPIRIT  VOICES. 

HARK  !  the  hallowed  spirit  voices  ! 
Hear  that  glad  and  Heavenly  strain, 
Coming,  in  sweet,  whispered  echoes 

To  our  weary  hearts  again. 
Bless  the  dear  ones  there  united, 

Joining  in  seraphic  praise, 
Where  the  white  robed  Angels  ever 
Unto  Him  their  voices  raise  ! 


Spirit  Voices.  153 

CHORUS. 

Oh,  the  music  softly  falling, 

Like  the  stir  of  Angel  wings  ! 
Hark  the  spirit  voices  calling 

From  Thy  realm,  oh,  King  of  Kings  ! 

They  are  calling,  sweetly  calling, 

Unto  those  they  love  the  best, 
Bidding  them  to  banish  sorrow, 

Telling  them  of  promised  rest. 
Be  not  deaf  unto  that  music  ; 

Open  wide  the  spirit's  door  ; 
Soon  our  spirits,  too,  will  join  them, 

Praising  God  forevermore. 

Sing  aloud,  ye  seraph  songsters  ! 

Sing  from  yonder  sainted  Land  ! 
Songs  from  you  have  thrilled  our  heart-strings  ; 

We  shall  soon  among  you  stand. 
Watch,  ye  guardian  Angels,  o'er  us  ; 

Shield  us  with  your  holy  love  ; 
Spirit  voices,  o'er  us  hover, 

Lead  us  to  yon  realms  above  ! 


THE  ONE  THAT  I  ADORE. 

SONG. 

DEEP  in  my  heart  there  is  a  face 
So  bright,  so  sweet,  so  fair  ! 
Adorned  with  every  lovely  grace, — 

Through  Life  I'll  keep  it  there. 
She  brings  to  me  the  fondest  dreams 

That  all  my  joys  restore  ; 
My  star,  my  rose,  till  Life  shall  close, — 
The  one  that  I  adore. 

CHORUS. 

Faithful  and  true,  bright  as  the  dew, 

That  gems  the  lilies  o'er  ; 
Ever  my  own, — mine,  mine,  mine  alone, 

The  one  that  I  adore. 

My  truest  love  to  her  I  give  ; 

My  Life  she  soon  will  bless  ; 
In  sunlight  of  her  smiles  I  live, 

For  me  is  each  caress. 
The  birds  that  sing  in  Summer  skies 

Her  praises  warble  o'er  ; 
Oh,  dear  to  me,  while  Life  shall  be, — 

The  one  that  I  adore  ! 
154 


Bereavement.  155 

No  other  lips  could  ever  woo 

My  dear  one  from  my  side  ! 
Oh  she  has  promised  to  be  true 

Through  all  this  world  so  wide  ! 
Were  she  an  Angel  from  above, 

I  could  not  love  her  more, — 
My  soul's  delight,  so  peerless,  bright, — 

The  one  that  I  adore  ! 


BEREAVEMENT. 

THE  Hand  that  smites, — to  it  I  bow  ; 
Yet  awful  its  decree  ! 
E'en  while  my  heart  is  bleeding  now, 

God's  wisdom  I  can  see  ; 
And,  though  the  blow  is  hard  to  bear, 

And  dreary  is  Life's  way, 
I  still  must  own  His  loving  care 
That  folds  me,  day  by  day. 

Sad  heart,  He  knew  how  weak  we  were, 

How  faithless,  and  how  blind. 
Though  bitter  tears  mine  eyes  oft  blur, 

Still,  Father,  thou  art  kind. 
Thou  saw'st  rough  ways  before  my  child, 

Where  these  weak  arms  would  fail. 
Thou,  ere  his  mind  could  be  defiled, 

Did'st  lift  him  from  earth's  vale. 


1 56  Bereavement. 

He  dwells  with  Angels  bright  and  fair 

Where  grief  nor  shadows  come  ; 
Eternal  glories  he  doth  share 

In  Thy  celestial  Home. 
There,  lovingly  he  waits  for  me  ! 

I  see,  in  every  star, 
Those  eyes  that  look  so  patiently 

To  welcome  me  afar. 

Oh,  precious  joy,  beyond  all  bliss 

To  motherhood  e'er  given, 
The  one  sweet  thought  I  bear, — 'tis  this, 

I  have  a  child  in  Heaven. 
Yea,  though  from  me  thou'rt  far  away, 

In  yonder  realms  of  joy, 
I  know  with  God  I'll  find,  some  day, 

My  darling  angel  boy  ! 


MARCH. 

OH  !  a  wild  "  harum-scarum  "  is  March; 
He  tweaks  every  nose  he  meets, 
In  a  way  that  he  thinks  quite  arch, 

While  he  whistles  o'er  woods  and  streets. 
Then  he  shouts  down  the  chimneys  high, 
With  a  gleeful  and  grim  "  Ho  !  Ho  !  " 
And  sifts,  from  the  blustry  sky, 
Such  a  rlurry  of  blinding  snow  ! 

"  Now  I'll  rage  like  a  lion  !  "  roars  he, 

And  he  rattles  the  icy  trees: 
"  Then  as  mild  as  a  lamb  I'll  be, 

These  valleys  and  hills  to  please. 
Soon  I'll  waken  the  snow-drops  fair, 

Just  to  hint  of  the  sweet  days  near; 
Then  the  pretties  away  I'll  scare, 

With  a  frown,  and  a  shriek  so  drear  !  " 

Oh  !  a  "  happy-go-lucky  "  is  March, 

But  we  laugh  at  his  hearty  glee, 
For  we  know  that  his  tricks,  so  arch, 

Are  the  promise  of  joys  to  be. 
Let  him  scatter  his  flossy  snow; 

Let  him  rattle  the  branches  high; 
Ah  !  his  sister,  sweet  April,  we  know, 

Soon  will  peep  out  of  yon  blue  sky  ! 
157 


A  HEN'S  COLUMBIAN  LAY. 

"/"""^LUCK  !  Cluck  !  my  darlings  pretty, 
V_>     If  fowls  are  wise  or  witty, 

The  race  that  we  belong  to  doesn't  show  it,  dears; 
Your  mother  wants  to  teach  you, 
In  tones  she  hopes  will  reach  you, 

A  most  important  fact,  and  you  shall  know  it,  dears. 

Why  bipeds  of  no  feather 

Should  jubilate  together, 
And  leave  the  chickens  out,  to  me  a  mystery  is; 

Though  fowls  of  low  condition, 

I  hold  that  our  position 

Ranks  high  with  those  who  know   what    Spanish 
history  is. 

I  don't  say,  chicks,  we  aided 

In  anything  which  they  did 
Who  sent  Columbus  o'er  the  seas  meandering; 

But  what  at  first  suggested 

A  new  world  's  not  contested  ; 
Why  are  we  overlooked  in  this  philandering  ? 

We  don  t  plume  ourselves  much  on 
Our  family  escutcheon; 
But,  speaking  of  Columbus,  incidentally, 
158 


Remembered.  159 

Your  ancestor  it  was 
That  helped  along  his  cause, 
She  laid  the  egg  he  used  experimentally  ! 


REMEMBERED. 

LIKE  a  bird,  when  pursued  by  the  hunter's  keen 
arrow 

It  timidly  flies  to  its  home  in  the  nest, 
So  my  heart,  even  now,  from  the  world  cold  and 

narrow, 
Will  fondly  seek  thine  for  its  haven  of  rest. 

For  I  know  that  the  innocent  love  which  I  cherish 
Is  something  diviner  than  earth  can  bestow; 

And  alloy  can  not  reach  it,  the  gem  can  not  perish, 
My  heart  still  shall  wear  it  wherever  I  go. 

'Tis  the  unsevered  link  that  Heaven  doth  bind  us, 
'Tis  richer  than  riches  that  dower  the  sea; 

The  sweet  bliss  of  Paradise  surely  will  find  us, 
And  that  will  atone  for  all  sorrows  to  me. 

There,  an   infinite  God  will  bring  true  hearts  to 
gether, 

And  fondly  we'll  roam  in  His  gardens  above. 
And  no   envy   can   make   of    Life   there  a   blank 

heather, 
For  His  name  is  the  symbol  of  infinite  Love  ! 


SUGGESTED  BY  THE  PLAY  OF 
"INGOMAR." 

HOW  many  hearts  are  sold  and  bought, 
Or  by  sacrifices  won  ? 
How  few  "  with  but  one  single  thought, — 
Two  hearts  that  beat  as  one  ! ' ' 

Methinks,  when  two  hearts  thus  are  blest, 
They're  stamped  with  Heaven's  seal  ! 

Thus  they  enjoy,  in  Life,  sweet  rest; 
Their  lives  are  true  and  leal. 

And,  when  the  silver  threads  appear, 

They  still  go  hand  in  hand; 
Old  age  still  makes  their  hearts  more  dear,- 

They've  honored  God's  command. 

Oh,  Ingomar,  'twas  your  blest  fate 

To  win  as  few  have  done. 
To  symbol, — sweetheart,  wife  and  mate, — 

"  Two  hearts  that  beat  as  one  !  " 

And  when  your  Master  from  on  high 
Calls, — Life's  race  grandly  won, — 

Oh,  answer  :  'Tis  not  Death  to  die  ! 
"  Hearts  still  shall  beat  as  one  !  " 
1 60 


THE  SILENT  BOATMAN. 

OH,  Boatman,  come  hither  from  yonder  bright 
shore, 

And  guide  my  frail  barque  o'er  the  way  ! 
I  longingly  wait  for  the  raptures  in  store, 

Come  over,  and  hasten,  I  pray. 
For  the  keel  of  thy  boat,  as  it  leaveth  the  strand, 

And  the  dip  of  the  oars  now  I  list, 
How  long  will  it  be  ere  it  toucheth  the  land, 
Seen  bright  through  the  deepening  mist  ? 

When  once  I  have  crossed  o'er  the  dark, chilly  tide, 

'Mid  shadows,  so  gloomy  and  deep, 
When  safely  I'm  anchored  on  yon  radiant  side, 

I  know  that  no  more  I  shall  weep. 
Oh,  long  I've  been  waiting  for  that  golden  key 

To  open  the  white,  pearly  gate  ! 
I  know  that  my  darling  ones  there  I  shall  see, 

I  feel  for  my  coming  they  wait  ! 

Oh,  soon  be  unbarred  those  grand  portals  of  day, 

That  Jesus'  dear  face  I  may  see  ! 
When  sentinel  Angels,  in  brightest  array, 

Will  quickly  give  welcome  to  me. 


161 


1 62  The  Silent  Boatman. 

How  gladly  I'll  join  that  celestial  host, 

Their  jubilant  music  to  sing; 
In  praise  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  Holy  Ghost, 

My  glad  hallelujahs  will  ring  ! 

Oh,  darling  one,  resting  in  Jesus'  dear  arms, 

And  folded  on  His  gentle  breast, 
To  you  I  shall  go,  from  the  world's  weary  storms, 

And  my  spirit  with  you  shall  find  rest  ! 
A  bond  of  reunion,  a  more  perfect  love, 

Will  follow  the  wearisome  Now; 
\  feel  that  when  fondly  you  meet  me  above 

With  garlands  you'll  wreathe  my  pale  brow. 

No  eye  hath  e'er  seen,  and  no  lips  now  can  tell 

Of  joys  that  our  God  hath  prepared. 
Oh,  world  weary  spirit,  He  doeth  all  well,— 

The  Saviour  your  sorrow  hath  shared  ! 
And  now,  as  the  Boatman  is  sailing  to  me, 

I  know  I  shall  safely  cross  o'er, 
For  His  hand  guides  the  rudder,  I  plainly  can  see, 

To  rest  and  to  gladness  once  more  ! 


DAWN. 

(SONNET.) 

GRASSES   o'erbent  with  globes  of  tremulous 
dew 

That  slip  to  earth,  when  tricksy  winds  go  by, 
And  leave  the  lithe,  unglossy  green  still  dry. 
Pure,  honeyed  breath  of  flowers,  fresh  and  new, 
And  melting  clouds  disclosing  burnished  blue, 
As  if  the  deep,  illimitable  sky 
Were  new-born  !     Hark  !    from  petaled    shelter 

nigh, 

To  seek  lost  sunset's  interrupted  clew, 
Comes  crooning  now  the  bee,  with  sinuous  sweep, 
Like  silver,  smiting  silver,  bird-songs  ring, 

And  plashing  rills,  with  turbulence  headlong, 
Gush  from  the  hillside's  mossed  and  lichened  steep. 
"A  new  day  !  "  birds  and  bees  and  breezes  sing; 
A  new  day,   oh,   my  heart,   for  Hope,   Love, 
Joy  and  Song  ! 


163 


A 


SNOW. 

NET-WORK  of  dark  boughs 

Along  the  dull  gray  sky; 
A  flinty  road  whereon  the  wheels  are  creaking  as 

they  go; 

A  scuffle  and  a  shout 
Of  winds  that  hurry  by, 

A    fen,  with  frozen    hoof-dints,  and  a    brook    with 
silent  flow. 

A  broken,  roadside  wall, 
With  draggling,  rusty  vines; 
A    tawny  hay-mow  crouching,   like  a  lion,  by  the 

hill; 

Weird  tracery  of  ice 
Among  a  group  of  pines, 

And,   in  the  vale,   a  farm-house,   strange,   desolate 
and  still. 

A  landscape  overhung  with  ever-changing  flakes 
That  whirl  in  slumberous  eddies,  and  loiteringly 

fall; 
A  drift  that  sweeps  along,  till  in  powdery  mist  it 

breaks; 

Now  gradually  vanish,  the  road,  the  fields,  and 
all. 

164 


Don't  You  Hear- the  Robin?  165 

Oh,  sunlight  of  the  heart,  amid  this  wintry  blight  ! 
How,  at  my  will,   the  pleasant  Summer  sounds 

and  pictures  throng; 
The   homeward-wending    cows — a   face  in  waning 

light,- 

A  world    of    waving   greenery, — the    bluebird's 
fluted  song  ! 


DON'T  YOU  HEAR  THE  ROBIN? 

DON'T  you  hear  the  robin, 
Singing  down  the  dell  ? 
Oh,  the  loving  message 

Now  he  comes  to  tell  ! 
Gone  is  all  the  sighing, 

Past  the  weary  hours  ; 
Hey,  for  buds  and  blossoms, 

Glad  and  jeweled  showers. 
Greenly  waves  the  willow, 

Mirth  is  on  the  air  ; 
Oh,  the  happy  music 

For  each  heart  to  share. 
While  the  silver  brooklets 

Run,  the  joy  to  tell, — 
Don't  you  hear  the  robin 

Singing  down  the  dell  ? 
Happy,  happy  robin, 

Singing  down  the  dell  ! 


1 66  Don't  You  Hear  the  Robin  f 

Don't  you  hear  the  robin, 

Singing,  heart  of  mine  ? 
Joy  and  Hope  are  beaming, 

Why  should  we  repine  ? 
Hark  !  the  bird  that  brings  you 

Brighter  days  to  live  ! — 
Tells  you  of  the  sunshine 

That  will  blessings  give  ! 
See  the  rosy  blossoms 

Showered  from  the  tree  ; 
Over  emerald  meadows 

Hear  the  sounds  of  glee. 
"Joy  !  "   the  sky  is  breathing, 

"Joy"  the  rivers  tell  ; 
Don't  you  hear  the  robin 

Singing  down  the  dell  ? 
Happy,  happy  robin, 

Singing  down  the  dell  ! 


GRANDMA'S  GLASSES. 

SHE  tells  me  just  the  strangest  things 
About  the  times  of  long  ago,  — 
And  oft  of  them  a  song  she  sings  ; 
'Tis  wonderful  what  grandmas'  know. 

She  talks  of  cities  she  has  seen, 

And  of  their  people  quaint  and  queer  ; 

I  wonder  where  she  hasn't  been  ; 
Her  stories,  too,  I  love  to  hear. 

Something  that's  new,  each  day  I'm  told, 
I  love  on  grandma's  face  to  look, — 

It  never,  to  my  mind,  grows  old, 
It  seems  to  me  a  picture  book. 

I  linger  long  beside  her  chair, 

And,  tho'  a  child  of  just  twice  three, 

If  I  could  grandma's  glasses  wear, 
Maybe  I'd  see  what  she  can  see  ! 


167 


THEY  ARE  NOT  DEAD. 

THEY  are  not  dead,  but  slumber,  now, 
No  anguish  can  they  feel  ; 
Bright  Glory's  crown  is  on  each  brow, 

Where  Death  hath  set  its  seal. 
No  breath  of  sorrow  clouds  their  way, 

No  discord  can  they  hear  ; 
In  portals  bright  of  endless  day 
God's  anthems  greet  the  ear. 

Since  Jesus  died  and  rose  for  them, 

What  fear  they,  past  the  grave? 
Faith  is  their  radiant  diadem, — 

He  perished  us  to  save. 
To  join  the  bright  and  ransomed  throng 

Their  loved  ones  long  have  led, 
Glad  welcomed  by  the  Angels'  song, 

They  sleep  ! — they  are  not  dead  ! 

With  Hope  and  Love  and  Purity 

They  lived  their  homes  to  bless  ; 
And  in  God's  dear  security 

Found  peace  and  happiness. 
What  though  our  hearts  are  aching  now 

Sore  with  their  stricken  woe  ? 
All  to  the  Hand  that  smites  must  bow,— 

The  gain  is  theirs,  we  know. 
1 68 


They  Are  Not  Dead.  169 

Oh,  let  them  silent,  peaceful  sleep, 

They're  safely  Home,  at  last  ! 
Why  should  we  mourn, — why  should  we  weep? 

Earth-anguish  they  have  passed  ! 
They  watch  us,  through  the  windowed  stars  ; 

Their  mem'ry  blesses  here. 
No  storm  their  tranquil  being  mars, — 

The  loved,  the  good,  the  dear  ! 

Father  of  earth,  of  Heaven  above. 

Though  strong  this  mortal  bond, 
May  all  clasp  hands,  in  holy  love, 

The  spirit  land  beyond. 
Rest  to  each  form  that  lowly  lies. 

Their  grass  we  softly  tread  ; 
What  though  the  floral  tribute  dies, — 

They  sleep  ! — they  are  not  Dead  ! 


A  WORLD'S-FAIR  MEMORY. 

OH,  friend,  do  you  remember  yet, 
When  'neath  the  lofty  dome  we  met, 
In  that  White  City  far  away 
That  thronged  with  people  grave  and  gay  ? 

I  know  you  think  of  one  sweet  face 
That  wore  a  mother's  lovelit  grace. 
I  know  her  words,  again  you  hear, — 
Those  words  of  trust  and  faith,  so  dear. 
'Twas  where  uprose,  majestic,  grand, 
The  sculptured  forms,  on  either  hand, 
Of  Christ  the  Saviour  of  the  earth, 
And  Lincoln,  Freedom's  soul  of  worth  ! 

We  gazed  on  Him,  the  blest,  the  meek, 
With  awe-struck  hearts  that  scarce  could  speak, 
As  dumb  as  sculptured  marble  we 
In  presence  of  such  majesty, 
Wrought  by  the  hand  of  Genius  there 
With  Art  that  was  beyond  compare  ! 
What  thoughts  we  had  of  Christ,  the  Lord, 
I  felt  we  held  in  sweet  accord. 
What  thoughts  of  him  who  freed  the  slave, — 
God's  champion,  the  true,  the  brave, — 
170 


A  World's- Fair  Memory.  171 

Whose  words  were  "  Charity  towards  all  !  " 
Ah  !  friend  of  mine,  do  you  recall? 

Then  spake  dear  mother-lips,  "I'll  wait 
Your  coming,  be  it  soon  or  late, 
The  Saviour  of  his  land  between 
And  the  world -saving  Nazarene. 
Not  safer  could  a  mother  be 
'Twixt  Time  and  vast  Eternity  !  " 

And  there  we  found  that  gentle  heart, 
Wrapped  in  her  thoughts,  from  all  apart. 
A  halo  seemed  to  crown  her  face 
With  all  its  motherhood  and  grace. 
Her  woman  nature,  upright,  just, 
Had  spoken  words  of  perfect  trust  ; 
And,  as  we  gazed,  she  seemed  to  be 
Akin  to  sculptured  majesty, 
And  imaged  him  who  freed  the  slave, 
And  Christ  who  came  the  world  to  save  ! 


THE  TOUCH  OF  GOD. 

'HPIS  the  finger  of  God  that  hath  touched  me, 

I        It  bids  me  awake  and  arise, 
To  look  not  for  happiness  earthward, 

But  yonder  in  Heavenly  skies. 

'Tis  His  hand  which  hath  tenderly  smitten, 
Through  gloom  of  the  gathering  night  ; 

His  voice  'tis  that  calleth  "  Come  upward, 
For  I  am  the  Way  and  the  Light ! ' ' 

Shall  I  not  give  my  trust  in  His  keeping  ; 

Though  narrow  and  dark  is  the  way, 
I  feel  that  His  blest  hand  is  guiding 

My  footsteps  to  yon  perfect  day. 

My  faith  liveth  past  all  affliction. 

I  bow  to  His  chastening  rod. 
Oh,  may  I  behold,  in  Life's  sorrows, 

The  touch  of  the  finger  of  God  ! 


172 


LOVE'S  DREAM  OF  THE  FUTURE. 

OH,  sweet,  new  Love  that  comes  to  bloom 
Within  a  Life  of  hopeless  gloom  ! 
Oh,  sweet,  dear  Love  that  comes  to  bless 
A  Life  that  had  been  purposeless  ! 
What  rapture,  as  of  Spring's  pure  thrill 
Rejuvinating  vale  and  hill  ! 
What  glory,  as  of  sunset  skies 
With  tints  of  God's  own  Paradise, 
Illuming  the  twilight  hour 
With  Peace  and  Hope  and  wondrous  power  ! 
A  new  Life  in  the  Future  shone 
For  two  brave  hearts  to  live,  alone  ! 
Two  hearts,  entwined,  to  do  and  dare, 
All  struggles,  earthly  hopes,  to  share, 
Till  God  shall  join  their  pathways  here, 
With  bonds  that  link,  as  sphere  to  sphere, 
The  stars  that  gem  the  vast  above 
In  Love,  immutable  sweet  Love! 
Not  only  for  this  Life  of  earth, 
Not  only  for  its  dross  and  dearth, 
Not  only  linked  for  this,  ah,  no  ! 
But  still  beneath  God's  smile  to  be 
One  through  His  grand  Eternity  ! 


173 


174  Love  s  Dream  of  the  future. 

Oh,  flowers  of  earth,  ye  fade  and  die  ! 
Fast  fades  the  bloom  of  Summer's  sky, 
Its  sweetest  roses  withered  lie 

Ere  snows  of  Winter  fall  ! 
But  Love's  unfading,  fragrant  bloom 
Endures  when  skies  are  hid  in  gloom, 
And  blossoms  far  beyond  the  tomb  ; 

Love  dieth  not  at  all ! 

For  'tis  of  God,  the  gift  is  given, 
For  'tis  an  attribute  of  Heaven  ! 
Though  earth  and  all  therein  be  riven, 

And  fade  yon  stars  above, 
True  Love  shall  ever  be  the  same, 
Dear  Love  its  own  shall  fondly  claim 
And  still  return  from  whence  it  came, — 

To  God,  for  God  is  Love  ! 

Two  hearts  that  met,  upon  Life's  way, 

When  all  their  songs  were  sweet  and  gay 

Yet  disappointment,  bitter,  dark, 

Had  made  their  deathless  love  an  ark  ! — 

A  shelter  from  the  storms  of  Life, 

Its  unremitting  pains  and  strife. 

Both  equal  in  His  gifts  divine, 

Health,  strength,  and  talents  to  outshine 

The  common  throng  that  plod  each  day  ; 

Both  firm  resolved  to  conquer  wrong 

And  sing,  at  last,  the  victor's  song  ! 


Love' s  Dream  of  the  Future.  175 

Within  each  other's  eyes  they  read 
God's  message,  and  it  softly  said  : 
' '  One  purpose  shall  be  ours,  one  thought, 
One  human  destiny  be  wrought ; 
However  Fate  may  intervene 
We  know  the  hand  of  the  Unseen 
Will  join  their  lives,  in  His  own  time, 
If  not  on  earth,  in  realms  sublime." 

Oh,  dream  of  yonder  Future  sweet 

That  would  make  both  their  lives  complete  ! 

They  lived  but  in  each  other's  smile, 

Two  souls  without  a  thought  of  guile  ; 

The  agony,  as  of  the  cross, 

To  each,  would  be  the  other's  loss  ! 

Though  sorrow  fell, — their  hopes  were  dust — 
This  still  perfected  their  dear  trust 
In  one  another  ! 

From  God's  home 
His  loving  angels  seemed  to  roam, 
And  bear  from  each  to  each  a  word, — 
A  chord  of  sympathy  to  quell 
The  shadows  that  around  them  fell, 
And  draw  them  nearer,  could  this  be, 
Through  deepest,  purest  sympathy  ! 
For  God  had  smiled  upon  their  love, 
And  all  His  angels  far  above  ! 
They  knew  it  by  that  hallowed  sign 
Which  only  souls  of  Love  divine  ! 


176  Love' s  Dream  of  the  Future. 

That  love  which  pulsates  through  each  breast, 

In  gladness  or  in  griefs  unrest, 

In  unison,  sublime,  supreme, 

Till  lived  for  them  the  Future's  dream  ! 

All  thought  of  self  had  left  each  heart, 

One  thought, — Love,  "Love,   where'er  thou  art." 

Oh,  spirits,  that  nor  time,  nor  space 
Can  through  Eternity  displace  ! 
The  Future  shall  unite  them  there 
In  bliss,  in  rapture  past  compare. 
What  is  the  separation  sad 
To  this  reunion,  endless,  glad  ? 
One,  living  in  each  other's  eyes, 
Through  gardens  of  His  Paradise  ! 
One,  smiled  upon  by  Deity 
For  Love  that  still  could  faithful  be 
Through  Time,  and  all  its  burdens  deep, — 
Its  heartfelt  pangs,  and  eyes  that  weep,— 
Its  longing,  yearning,  anguished  thrall  ! 
One  soul,  one  heart,  past  all  recall, 
After  earth's  travail,  crowneth  all  ! 

Oh,  Love,  they  may  not  tell  the  bliss, — 

The  rapture  of  the  heart, 
When  on  their  lips  they  feel  thy  kiss 

Its  holy  seal  impart  ! 
To  know  that  one  dear  soul  is  true, 

Through  all  of  weal  or  woe, 
Each  heart  girds  up  its  strength  anew 

To  plod  Life's  path  below. 


Love" s  Dream  of  the  Future.  177 

A  life  ideal  meets  their  gaze, — 

A  life  through  years  to  be, — 
Along  the  sweet  sequestered  ways 

Of  Love's  unfathomed  sea  ! 
To  read  in  eyes  that  watched  so  long 

The  bliss  of  meeting's  thrill, 
Would  turn  all  sadness  into  song 

Lite's  waste  with  roses  fill  ! 

A  Life's  ideal,  this  shall  guide 

Their  steps  while  on  they  go, 
Till  they  shall  wander,  side  by  side, 

In  youth's  unfading  glow  ; 
Clasped  in  God's  boundless,  infinite 

Beatitude  above. 
Forever  blest,  for  aye  at  rest 

With  Him  whose  name  is  Love  ! 


IN  MEMORY. 

HENRY    P.    UNDERBILL.       DIED  IN  BALTIMORE, 
OCTOBER   4TH,     1889. 

(TO  HIS  COMRADES  OF  THE  G.  A.  R.) 

OH,  hearts  that  saw  that  manly  heart 
Consigned  to  mother  earth  ! 
'Tis  meet  to  give  a  word  of  praise 

To  bravery  and  worth. 
Love  was  the  countersign  he  bore 

To  yonder  realms  afar  ; 
His  memory  is  ours  to-day, 
As  bright  as  evening's  star. 

Recall  we  now  the  battlefield, 

Where,  'mid  the  stoned  brave, 
He  stood  the  storm  of  shot  and  shell 

The  dear  old  flag  to  save. 
Oh,  comrades  of  the  G.   A.  R., 

His  deeds  you  treasure  now, 
While  o'er  the  sod  that  hides  his  form 

You  pause  with  sorrowing  brow  ! 

Though  but  a  child  in  those  dark  days, 

I  hear  again  the  tread 
Of  soldiers  brave,  as  slow  they  come 

Bearing  a  Nation's  dead. 
178 


In  Memory.  179 

And  he  was  there  to  tribute  pay 

Unto  a  comrade  dear  ; 
That  song  :    "  He's  crossed  the  river  dark," 

Falls  softly  on  mine  ear. 

The  grand  old  anthem  then  was  heard, 

In  accents  loud  and  clear, 
When  lips  of  his  so  bravely  spoke  : 

"  Let's  from  the  children  hear  !  " 
In  civic  ranks  renowned  and  high, 

He  lives,  though  cold  he  lies. 
Oh,  brothers  of  the  Mason's  craft, 

His  love  bedims  your  eyes  ! 

A  soul  of  worth  gone  up  to  God, 

A  bright  exemplar  left  ! 
While  thoughts  of  him  live  in  our  hearts 

We  cannot  be  bereft. 
Bearing  his  honors,  bravely  won, 

He  sleeps  beneath  the  trees  ; 
The  flag  he  loved  his  winding  sheet, 

His  psalm  the  whispering  breeze  . 

Upon  that  soldiers'  monument 

His  hands  have  helped  to  rear, 
Inscribe  his  name  in  memory, 

And  drop  a  soldier's  tear. 
Beside  his  loved  ones,  he's  at  rest, 

And  this  slight  tribute  take 
From  one  who  while  a  tiny  child 

Loved  him  for  Countrv's  sake. 


PRAYER. 

WHEN  the  twilight  shadows  gather, 
And  a  mantle  o'er  us  flings, 
In  a  prayer  what  soothing  comfort, 

Oh,  what  peace  and  rest  it  brings  ! 
What  is  more  divine  and  holy 

Than  a  voice  that  whispers  there  : 
"  Cast  your  burdens  on  Me  ever, 
I  am  willing  all  to  bear  !  " 

Blessed  words,  Thou  crowned  with  glory, — 

Once  despised  Nazarene  ! 
Crucified  to  bring  all  sinners 

To  that  Home  no  eye  hath  seen. 
Let  us  cast  our  troubles  on  Him, — 

All  our  doubts  and  unbelief, 
Let  us  worship  and  adore  Him, — 

He  will  take  away  our  grief. 

He  will  calm  Life's  fiercest  battle, 

End  the  tumult  and  the  strife  ; 
He  became  our  burden-bearer, 

Laying  down  His  precious  life  ! 
Then  unto  Him  songs  and  praises 

Let  the  heart  bring  everywhere  ! 
And  adore  Him  for  His  mercies 

While  we  kneel  to  Him  in  prayer. 
1 80 


Sabbath  Eve.  181 

Father,  kindly  look  upon  us, 

Shield  us  with  Thy  love  divine  ! 
May  we,  through  Life's  weary  journey, 

In  our  hearts  Thy  name  enshrine. 
And,  when  days  of  earth  are  ended, — 

When  we  reach  thy  mansion  fair, — 
We  shall  know  the  hallowed  blessings 

We  have  gained  by  earnest  prayer. 


SABBATH  EVE. 

OH,  Sabbath  eve.  blest  Sabbath  eve, 
When  all  the  cares  of  Life  we  leave 
When  in  sweet  quiet  hearts  repose 
Far  from  the  week's  unrest  and  woes. 
'Tis  then  we  nearer  seem  to  be 
To  Him  who  reigns  eternally. 
A  glory  lovely  and  divine 
Makes  earth  a  pure  and  holy  shrine  ! 
Awake,  ye  hallowed  tones,  once  more, — 
Ring  out,  ye  bells,  from  shore  to  shore  ! 
Wake  sons  of  men,  and  anthems  raise, 
To  God  on  high  be  endless  praise. 
From  deep  to  deep  resound  the  song, 
And  Heavenly  choirs  the  strain  prolong. 
Thy  calm  may  every  heart  receive, 
Oh,  Sabbath  eve,  blest  Sabbath  eve  ! 


1 82  Sabbath  Eve, 

Oh,  Sabbath  eve,  dear  Sabbath  eve, 
To  all  on  earth  a  sweet  reprieve  ! 
When  hearts  with  toil  and  sorrow  bow, 
A  messenger  of  Peace  art  thou. 
Now  weary  hands  from  Labor  rest, 
And  joy  returns, — a  welcome  guest. 
A  holiness,  on  earth,  in  air, 
Falls  round  us,  like  the  breath  of  prayer  ; 
And  every  heart  is  called  above 
To  God,  the  fount  of  Light  and  Love  ! 
Oh,  golden  clasp  to  bind  the  week, — 
May  every  heart  thy  glory  speak  ; 
Let  grateful  prayers,  like  incense,  rise 
To  Him  who  rules  the  earth  and  skies. 
Dear  boon  of  joy  to  souls  that  grieve, — 
Oh,  Sabbath  eve,  blest  Sabbath  eve  ! 


BE  PURE  IN  SPEECH. 

HOW  vast  is  the  sphere  of  humanity's  voice, 
Approaching  the  Power  Divine  ! 
Communing  with  God,  and  with  Angels,  and  man, 

How  mighty  its  sense  to  define. 
The  first  spoken  words  that  were  heard  o'er  the 

earth 

Were  God's  command  :   "  Let  there  be  light !  " 
When,  from  the  beginning,  from  chaos  he  made 
The  beautiful  Day  and  the  Night. 

Ah  !   "  Music  hath  charms,"  likewise  Painting, — 
in  Art 

What  wonderful  things  we  behold  ! 
But  all  of  their  beauties  must  ever  be  crowned 

With  words,  that  are  grander  than  gold. 
Alas  !  for  the  voice  that  with  anger  is  heard, — 
The  harshest  of  accents  it  hath  ; 
Oh,  cultivate  silvery  sounds  in  our  speech, — 

' '  The  soft  answer  turneth  '  way  wrath  ! ' ' 

Oh,  wondrous  the  power  that  lies  in  the  tongue  ! 

In  sickness,  and  sorrow  and  gloom, 
It  falls,  like  the  touch  of  an  Angelic  hand, 

To  lighten  the  loneliest  room  ! 

183 


184  Be  Pure  in  Speech. 

And  sweet  are  kind  words  to  the  laboring  ones 
Which  give  them  the  praise  they  have  won  ; 

Remember  the  words  of  the  Master  who  said  : 
'•  Oh,  good,  faithful  servant,  well  done  !  " 

While  guiding  the  young  with  the  truest  of  words, 

Fulfilling  our  mission  of  love, — 
Dissuading  from  evil,  with  tenderest  tones, — 

We're  leading  their  footsteps  above. 
And,  when  about  others  around  us  we  speak, 

Let's  never  say  aught  that  is  ill  ; 
For  scandal  is  ever  the  discord  of  Life, 

Its  bane  and  its  enemy  still. 

The    suppliant    voice    that    would    reach    to     the 
Throne, — 

With  power  approach  the  divine, — 
Should  never  descend  unto  accents  obscene, 

But  Good  should  its  music  refine. 
Oh,    pure  be    our   speech,    that    when   days   have 
waxed  old, 

And  locks  are  as  white  as  the  snow, 
When  wrinkled  the  brow,  and  with  tottering  steps 

All  feeble  and  trembling  we  go, 

May  we  then  be  known  by  a  sweet,  kindly  voice, 

That  falls  like  the  mild,  vesper  bell  ; 
And  tho'  it  in  Death  shall  grow  evermore  still 

Its  echo  soft  music  shall  tell. 


Shadows.  185 

Anew  let  us  culture  these  Heavenly  sounds 

The  purest  of  thoughts  to  express  ; 
Let  gentleness,  truth  and  the  kindliest  love 

Guard  words  that  shall  fall  but  to  bless  ! 


SHADOWS. 

i. 

WHY  do  these  shadows  encircle  my  way  ? 
Why  do  they  denser  grow,  day  after  day  ? 
Why  must  my  heart  that  was  once  gay  and  light, 
Now  be  enshrouded  in  the  gloom  of  the  night  ? 

God  of  the  helpless,  oh,  send  me  one  ray  ! 

Let  not  my  life  be  as  one  cast  away. 

Grant  Thou  a  few  years  of  Peace,  Hope  and  Rest  ! 

Thy  will,  not  mine,  Lord,  for  Thou  knowest  best  ! 

II. 

Out  of  the  darkness  and  into  the  Light, 
Lead  us,  oh,  Saviour,  by  day  and  by  night  ! 
Out  of  the  tempest  of  Death  and  of  blight, 
Guide  us  from  Time  to  Eternity's  height. 

Thou  art  the  Light,  thro'  this  valley  of  pain, 
Star  of  our  Hope,  never  gleaming  in  vain. 
Hush  thy  repining,  oh,  sad  heart  of  mine, 
Gaze  on  the  Light  that  is  fadeless,  Divine  ! 


SUNSET. 

THE    sun  is  slowly   sinking,   now,    behind    the 
crimson  clouds, 
The  night  is  coming  down  the  sky,  with  mantle 

that  enshrouds  ; 
And  as  the  twilight  shadows  o'er  my  spirit  softly 

steal, 

I'm  thinking  of  my  darling  one,  and  sad  of  heart  I 
feel. 

Oh,  shall  I  see  him  soon  again,  amid  that  Angel 
choir  ? 

I  yearn  to  clasp  him  with  a  mother's  infinite  desire! 

Oh,  can  he  see  my  anguish, — read  my  lonely,  ach 
ing  heart  ? 

Oh,  doth  he  realize  my  loss  since  doomed  from  him 
to  part  ? 

Oh,  Georgie,  how  we  miss  thee,  dear  divinely  gifted 

boy  ! 
We    wonder    how  we  live  without  thee,   for   thou 

wast  our  joy  ! 
If    God    had    not   defended    with    His    everlasting 

power, 
Methinks  a  sadly  burdened    mind    would    be  thy 

mother's  dower. 

1 86 


Sunset.  187 

But  matchless  is  His    mercy,    and    His   pure   and 

deathless  love, 
And  thro'  and  thro'  my  being  hath  He  words  of 

comfort  wove  ! 

Yea,  in  this  spirit  I  arouse,  and  courage  now  I  take, 
And  bear  the  cross  that    He   hath   given,   for   my 

darling's  sake. 

No  matter  what  this  life  may  give,  nor  aught  that 

1^1  esses  here, 
No  happiness  can  come  to  me,  and  earth  can  never 

cheer, 
For  thou  art  gone,  my   sweeter   self,    my   dearest 

one,  my  all  ! 
Oh,  sad  indeed  the  mother-heart  that  sorrows  dark 

enthrall  ! 

The  Future  loometh  ever  lone,  without  thee  by  my 

side. 
I    never   dreamed    but   through    the    years  thou 

wouldst  with  me  abide. 
I  cannot  fathom  now  my  loss  :  Oh,  shall    I    never 

see 
Thy  darling,  angel  face  again  ?     Alas  !  and  can  this 

be? 

Protect  me  now,  thou  Angel  fair, 

And  watch  above  me  here  ; 
For  while  thy  precious  love  I  share, 

Yon  Heaven  seems  more  near  ! 


1 88  Why  Do  I  Love? 

I  pray  that  God  may  send  me  peace, 
And  strength  to  banish  fear, — 

Until  my  soul  shall  find  release, 
And  we  meet,  Georgie  dear  ! 

Oh,  meet  me,  darling,  at  the  gate, 
And  take  me  by  the  hand  ; 

Tell  Jesus,  not  to  say  "  Too  late  !  " 
To  join  thee  in  that  Land. 

And  now  Good-night  !  thou  Angel  bird 
Night  holds  the  starry  dome  ; 

When  I  awake,  may  new  strength  gird 
My  soul  to  reach  thy  Home. 


WHY  DO  I  LOVE? 

WHY  do  I  love  my  love  so  well? 
Why  cloth  thy  image  ever  dwell 
Within  my  soul,  all  fears  to  quell 
All  doubts  to  hide,  ah,  who  can  tell  ? 
Why  do  I  love  my  love  so  well  ? 
In  accents  sweet  thy  voice  I  hear, 
Though  far  away,  yet  thou  art  near; 
In  whispering  heartfelt  notes,  so  clear, 
Our  vows  we  plight  from  year  to  year, 
Why  do  I  hold  my  love  so  dear? 


Why  Do  I  Love  f  189 

CHORUS. 

Why  do  I  love  ?     Why  do  I  love  ? 

Why  do  I  love  thee  dear  so  well  ? 
Summers  may  come,  summers  depart, 

Every  sweet  flower  could  the  secret  tell, 
Why  does  each  star  shine  from  afar 

Why  does  the  rill  sing  down  the  dell  ? 
Faithful  is  he,  loving  but  me, 

That's  why  I  love  my  love  so  well  ! 

Ask  why  the  rosebuds  love  the  dew; 
Or  why  the  sunset's  glorious  hue 
Bespangles  Heaven's  own  spotless  blue  ! 
Or  why  the  stars  their  light  renew  ! 
That's  why  I  love  my  love  so  true  ! 
Question  the  birds  of  air  that  sing 
Why  do  they  greet  the  jeweled  spring; 
Or  bid  the  blossoms  while  they  cling. 
Tell  why  such  joy  to  earth  they  bring, 
I'll  answer  then,  my  own,  my  king. 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 

BEND,  proud  spirit,  'neath  the  burden; 
Life  must  disappointments  bear  ! 
Murmur  not  when  they  have  fallen, 

Naught  can  stay  the  hand  of  care. 
Yield  with  trustfulness  and  meekness, 

Clouds  will  come  to  brightest  skies  ! 
And  a  chastening  sorrow  may  be 
But  a  blessing  in  disguise. 

God,  the  Monitor  of  Heaven 

Holds  the  scepter  in  His  hand  ! 
Though  the  earth  may  crush  thy  spirit, 

He,  to  save,  is  true  and  grand  ! 
Up,  and  meekly  bear  Life's  burdens; 

Be  not  in  thy  anguish  bowed  ! 
Look  beyond,  and  see  the  glorious 

Silver  lining  to  each  cloud. 


190 


PASSION  VERSUS  LOVE. 

THE  Heart  has  its  turbulent  passion, 
The  heart  has  its  beautiful  Love; 
While  one  is  the  world's  daily  fashion, 
The  other  descends  from  Above  ! 

Oh,  passion  is  brief  and  is  fleeting, 
But  Love  it  endureth  through  Life  ! 

The  soul  it  awakes  at  its  greeting, 
It  banishes  sorrow  and  strife. 

What  bliss,  through  the  long,  weary  hours 
To  know  that  one  heart  is  your  own, 

Oh,  Life  is  a  garden  of  flowers 

That,  loveless,  was  weary  and  lone  ! 

Should  passion  e'er  come  to  allure  you, 
Oh,  bid  it  begone  while  you  may  ! 

A  paradise  Love  will  assure  you, — 
True  happiness,  day  after  day. 

The  banner  of  Fame  may  wave  o'er  you, 
And  fortune  strew  plenty  around  ; 

But  the  heart  that  will  ever  adore  you 
Is  the  fairest  pearl  ever  was  found  ! 

191 


192  Passion  Versus  Love. 

Through  sunlight,  and  storm,  and  affliction, 
Through  sickness  and  sorrow  and  Death, 

Pure  Love  is  no  ideal  fiction, 
But  real  till  Life's  latest  breath  ! 

It  shines  like  the  Polar  star  o'er  us, — 
Encircling  our  being  with  bliss  ; 

It  makes  Life  one  rapturous  chorus, 

And  links  yonder  bright  world  with  this. 

Oh,  boon,  so  divine,  true  and  holy  ! 

Oh,  spark  that  will  ever  endure  ! 
In  palace,  or  cottage,  so  lowly, 

It  shines  ever  constant  and  pure. 

It  leadeth  our  steps,  which  here  darken, 

To  mansions  of  glory  above  ; 
Oh,  Love,  unto  you  will  I  harken, 

Sure  guide  unto  God,  who  is  Love  ! 


A: 


SNOW. 

N  ashen  sky,  and  winds  at  rest ; 

Like  strips  of  steel  the  brooks  ; 
Black  boughs  that  fringe  the  woodland's  crest  ; 

Dead  leaves  in  wayside  nooks. 
Brown  fields  all  shorn  and  desolate  ; 
Heap  high  the  fire,  and  click  the  gate  ; 
For  clouds  of  gray 
Now  plainly  say  : 
"  Ere  the  dawn  there  will  be  snowing." 

A  sky  of  blue,  a  world  of  white, 
And  winds  that  whistle  shrill, 
The  jolly  coasters  to  invite 

Out  on  the  glistening  hill. 
New  Life  to  thrill  the  crispy  air  ; 
New  gold  of  sunshine  everywhere  ; 
And  bright  eyes  say  : 
"  There's  fun  to-day, 
And  the  snow  will  soon  be  going." 


J93 


THE  DAYS. 

OH,  the  cheery  days  of  Spring 
When  the  budding  woods  are  ringing, 
And  the  brooklet,  on  the  lea, 
Like  a  child,  with  speech  let  free, 
At  its  own  wild,  merry  will 
Is  singing  ! 

Oh,  the  pleasant  Summer  days 

When  the  buds  have  found  completeness, 
And  the  flowers  are  drowsed  in  balm, 
And  the  lake  is  lapt  in  calm, 
And  music  crowds  the  hours 
With  sweetness  ! 

Oh,  the  days  so  golden,  sad, 

When  the  birds  are  Southward  calling, 
And  the  amber  sheaves  of  wheat 
Surge  around  the  reaper's  feet, 
And  the  red  and  topaz  leaves 
Are  falling  ! 

Oh,  the  days  so  white  and  bleak, 

When  the  bitter  winds  are  roving 
In  a  hundred  wayward  moods, 
Up  and  down  the  withered  woods,— 
Sad  are  these  without  thy  heart 
So  loving  ! 
194 


MEMORIAL  DAY. 


AGAIN  we  st.md  beside  your  graves, 
Oh,  comrades  of  the  long  ago  ! 
The  starry  flag  above  us  waves 

Resplendent  to  and  fro. 
We  twine  a  garland  for  the  true, 
The  brave  who  passed  away; 
With  blossoms  of  red,  white  and  blue, 
Keep  we  Memorial  Day  ! 

The  sacred  trust,  till  time  shall  end, 

From  us  shall  ne'er  depart; 
Where  lie  the  brave,  our  feet  shall  wend, 

With  homage  from  each  heart  ! 
One  thought  —  for  us  they  gave  their  life  ! 

Oh,  flowers  that  softly  sway, 
For  them  sweet  rest,  surcease  from  strife, 

Guard  their  Memorial  Day  ! 

Hark  !  o'er  the  land,  from  shore  to  shore, 

The  tramp  of  comrades  old  ! 
Wreathe  roses  for  the  brave  once  more, 

Their  graves  with  bloom  enfold  ! 

195 


196  The  Reason  Why. 

On  all  alike,  your  benison 

Descends,  fair  skies  of  May  ! 
Live  in  the  hearts  of  everyone 

Our  grand  Memorial  Day  ! 

Oh,  kindly  hands  that  softly  strew 

With  sweetest  buds  and  flowers, 
These  graves  where  rest  the  brave,  the  true, 

The  comrades  dear  of  ours. 
Think  not  their  spirits  can  forget, 

Though  early  passed  away; 
We'll  meet  beyond  all  sad  regret, 

On  God's  Memorial  Day  ! 


THE  REASON  WHY. 

OH,  lovely  are  her  costumes 
That  she  wears  with  queenly  pride; 
And  charming  is  her  beauty, — 
That  has  never  been  denied; 
Bewitching  are  her  graces 

And  her  "fin  de  circle  "  air; 
But  still,  to  woo  the  maiden 
I  never  seem  to  care. 

Not  startled  by  her  pertness, 
For  her  manners  I  admire; 


Thine  Eyes.  197 

Her  chic  is  captivating, 

All  a  lover  could  desire; 
But,  there's  another  reason 

Why  I  worship  her  afar, 
As  a  brooklet  does  the  blossoms, 

As  a  bird  the  twilight  star. 

Yes,  I  gaze  on  her  with  rapture, 

But  I  dare  not  clasp  her  hand. 
My  lips  are  mute,  while  seated 

In  her  presence  softly  grand; 
I'd  like  to  breathe  my  passion, 

But,  on  me  she'd  have  the  laugh, — 
I'm  afraid  of  breach  of  promise, 

And  she  keeps  a  Phonograph  ! 


THINE  EYES. 

i. 

I   GAZED  within  those  melting  deeps, 
And  all  the  world  to  me 
Seemed  one  sweet  dream  of  Paradise, 

Joy,  Peace  and  Melody! 
The  sadness  of  a  Life  had  past, 
And  bliss  supreme  was  mine,  at  last, 
Because  of  those  dear  eyes. 


198  Aparl  From  Thee! 

II. 

As  in  some  lake,  so  calm,  so  still, 
That  holds,  reflected  clear, 

The  stars,  the  trees  upon  its  marge, 
The  leaves  and  blossoms  near, 

With  joy  too  sweet  to  contemplate, 

So  in  those  eyes  I  saw  my  fate, — 
In  glory  of  thine  eyes. 

in. 

We  may  not  meet  on  earth  again, — 
Like  streams  we  parted  are; 

But  thou  wilt  ever  be  to  me 
Hope's  radiant  guiding  star  ! 

And  in  the  Life  that  is  to  be, 

The  brightest  glories  I  shall  see 
In  the  Heaven  of  thine  eves. 


APART  FROM  THEE  ! 

DAWN  is  not  dawn  unto  the  eyes 
That  look  alone  on  splendors  rare,- 
The  roseate  deeps  of  eastern  skies, 
The  dew,  the  roses  sweet  and  fair, 
Apart  from  thee  ! 


Apart  From  Thee  .'  1 99 

Night  is  not  night,  though  in  its  deeps 
The  myriad  stars  their  splendor  show  ; 

The  heart  is  desolate  that  keeps 

Its  watch,  the  pangs  of  love  to  know, 
Apart  from  thee  ! 

The  day  glides  on  its  weary  course, 

And  memory  alone  can  weave, 
Out  of  the  present's  dearth  and  loss, 

Its  visions  that  awhile  deceive, 
Apart  from  thee  ! 

Old  joys  return,  old  thoughts  that  blest 
In  happy  hours  when  thou  wast  near  ; 

Oh,  memories,  so  sweet,  give  rest, — 
Recall  the  Past,  so  vivid,  clear, 
Apart  from  thee  ! 

I  would  not  wish  to  live  Life's  day, 

I  will  not  joy  to  share  its  bliss, 
If  thou  shouldst  linger  far  away  ; 

For  all  of  Hope,  Peace,  Love  I  miss, 
Apart  from  thee  ! 


A  DREAM. 

BEFORE  an  altar  crowned  with  flowers 
Methought  I  stood  one  night ; 
Blossoms  of  red  and  white  and  blue 
Shone  gorgeous  to  my  sight. 

Upon  the  other  side,  unfurled, 

Our  country's  flag  so  true, 
Its  colors  gleaming  vividly, — 

The  red,  the  white,  the  blue. 

It  brought  me  sad,  sad  memories, — 

This  vision,  of  the  Past, 
Associations  that  throughout 

Eternity  shall  last, — 

Linked  with  the  child  for  aye  beloved, 

Before  God's  altar  now, 
The  diadem  of  Angels  fair 

Resplendent  on  his  brow. 

And  then  a  voice  "  Behold  these  flowers, 

They  all  shall  fade  and  die, 
Even  as  all  who  hear  my  words, 

Even,  my  friends,  as  I. 

200 


Separation,  201 

"  But  yonder  Flag  shall  proudly  wave 

To  all  eternity  ! 
God's  blessing  on  its  starry  folds 

The  emblem  of  the  Free  !  " 


SEPARATION. 

OH,  tempest  of  the  heart  that  loves 
Where  art  thou  now,  my  own  ? 
I  gaze  upon  the  jeweled  stars, 

And  know  that  I'm  alone. 
Oh,  what  a  weary  void  is  life 

When  thou  art  from  my  side  ! 
I  drift,  a  hopeless,  shattered  wreck, 

Upon  the  tossing  tide, 
While  separated  thus  from  thee 
A  thousand  ills  encompass  me. 

There  is  no  rest  where  thou  art  not, 

There  is  no  peace, — my  soui 
Goes  out  to  thee  for  solace  sweet, — 

To  thee,  its  Hope,  its  goal  ! 
The  night-wind  syllables  thy  name, 

The  stars  recall  those  eyes 
Wherein  for  me  is  every  joy, — 

The  light  of  Paradise  ! 
And  yet  I  know  thy  heart  is  true, 

As  to  the  rose  the  gentle  dew. 


2O2  Separation, 

The  glory  of  a  Hope  supreme 

Sustains  me  through  the  hour  ; 
The  thought,  the  knowledge  thou  art  mine, 

That  joy  at  last,  shall  flower, — 
The  perfect  bliss  of  meeting  sweet 

With  no  dividing  time, 
Imparadising  all  of  Life 

In  ecstasy  sublime  ! 
For  are  our  destinies  not  one  ? 
Shall  they  not  blend  ere  Time  be  done  ? 

Oh,  blessed  Hope  to  still  Life's  storm  ! 

Oh,  joy  that  is  to  be  ! 
Love,  perfect  Love,  hushes  the  heart 

As  Christ  did  Galilee. 
The  night  looks  brighter  for  thy  sake, 

I  shall  no  more  repine, 
Trusting  in  thy  dear  Love  that  speaks 

Now  to  this  heart  of  mine. 
Not  long  shall  separation  mar, — 
After  the  tempest,  Lo  !  the  star  ! 


WOMAN'S  CLUBS. 

A   WOMAN'S  club— the  whirligig 
Of  time  shows  many  changes; 
But  now  the  voice  of  womanhood 

A  brighter  view  arranges. 
An  atmosphere,  a  genial  group, 

Where  sympathetic  woman, 
May  have  her  sway,  in  glorious  way, 
In  all  that's  good  and  human  ! 

An  interchange  of  all  that's  best 

In  Life,  its  mirth  and  gladness; 
A  circulation  of  all  thought 

To  woo  the  heart  from  sadness. 
In  sooth,  the  brains  of  womanhood 

As  maid  and  wife  and  mother; 
To  represent  this  to  the  world 

Our  Mission,  and  no  other  ! 

As  wife,  with  blessed  influence 

To  wield  now  and  forever  ! 
To  hold  the  links  of  love  intact 

That  nothing  can  them  sever. 
As  mother,  holy  trust  from  God, 

So  woman  does  her  duty, 
While  goes  the  whirligig  of  Time, 

In  trustfulness  and  duty  ! 
203- 


204  Woman's   Clubs. 

There  is  a  voice  that  softly  says 

The  future  is  all  glory  ! 
The  past  is  past, — for  womanhood 

An  old,  forgotten  story. 
The  simple  recognition 

Of  the  sway  that  seeks  forever 
The  bettering  of  human  kind, 

Through  woman's  best  endeavor. 

The  woman's  Club — well  let  its  aim 

Be  still  the  world  to  brighten, — 
To  labor  for  the  world  at  large, 

Its  pains  and  ills  to  lighten. 
To  be  the  center  of  all  good, 

The  source  of  joy  unbounded  ; 
To  benefit  the  universe 

For  this  our  clubs  are  founded. 


CLOSE  TO  THE  CROSS  ! 

CLOSE  to  the  Cross  of  Christ  our  Lord, 
Oh,  refuge  sweet  and  dear  ! 
Come,  weary  soul,  with  grief  opprest, 
What  balm,  what  comfort  here. 
No  other  hope  upon  Life's  sea, 
No  purer,  blest  tranquility. 
Ave  Maria,  lead  thou  me 
Close  to  the  Cross  ! 

Close  to  the  Cross  that  stands  sublime 

Amid  the  wreck  and  doubt, — 
The  nameless  ills  of  human  Life, 
The  snares  within,  without. 

Oh.  Saviour  of  the  world,  to  Thee 
I  come  on  lowly  bended  knee  ! 
Ave  Maria,  watch  o'er  me, 
Close  to  the  Cross  ! 

Close  to  the  Cross,  there  let  me  hide, 

And  Death  shall  have  no  sting  ! 
What  need  I  fear  of  earthly  pain 
While  at  its  feet  I  cling  ? 

My  willing  soul  I  give  to  Thee 
To  crown  through  all  Eternity. 
Ave  Maria,  pray  for  me, 
Close  to  the  Cross  ! 
205 


206  The  New  Woman. 

Close  to  the  Cross,  the  True,  the  Blest ! 

I  lay  Life's  burdens  down  ; 
Oh,  Father,  hear  my  humble  prayer, 
Grant  me  the  victor's  crown  ! 

Protect,  and  aid,  and  comfort  me  ; 
Saviour  of  all,  Thine  would  I  be  ; 
Ave  Maria,  guide  thou  me 
Close  to  the  Cross  ! 


THE  NEW  WOMAN. 

SHE'S  up  to  date  in  all  that's  fine, 
And  has  a  charming  style  ; 
For  dash,  she's  in  the  foremost  line, 

Old  fogys  at  her  smile. 
We  always  read  about  her,  now, 
And  not  about  the  new  man  ; 
We  all  must  tip  the  hat,  and  bow 
To  her,  the  grand  new  woman  ! 

CHORUS : 

Fashions  change,  yes,  everywhere, 
You  scarce  know  what  to  do,  man  ; 

She  spends  the  cash,  and  cuts  a  dash, 
The  elegant  new  woman  ! 


The  New  Woman.  207 

She  has  a  chic  that's  bound  to  strike, 

An  independent  air  ; 
How  charmingly  she  rides  a  "  bike," 

No  matter  how  folks  stare  ! 
Her  "bloomers  "  show  to  all  the  world 

She  's  imitating  you,  man  ; 
Her  banner's  to  the  breeze  unfurled, — 

The  go-ahead,  new  woman  ! 

Oh,  how  the  dear  old  girls  would  stare, 

If  they  could  see  her  now  ! 
For  critic  man  she  doesn't  care, 

Nor  to  his  protest  bow. 
In  fact,  she  is  a  wonder  quite, 

Her  "  fads  "  are  not  a  few,  man, 
And  yet  her  little  heart's  all  right, — 

This  wonderful  new  woman  ! 


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